Just an Hour
by Chanse Lowell
Summary: 3 couples discoveries as they navigate their way in the BDSM lifestyle and find who they truly are. What does it mean to be a Dom? A submissive? And how do you let go so you can truly live? Can it be done if even for only an hour at a time? AH. Canon D/s couples: E/B E/R J/A BDSM
1. Chapter 1

**Chapter 1**

"You're never gonna find one. Just give up; they don't exist," Bella said.

Rose sighed. "One more time, please? We'll be more likely to be accepted if there are three of us there."

Her pleading eyes broke down Bella's resolve. "Fine, but this is the last time. I can't keep doing this . . ."

Alice smiled. She seemed to be the go-between, understanding both women completely. "Maybe we'll get lucky this time and they'll accept us."

Rose's chest squeezed painfully. They had to accept them, they just had to. She needed this more than anything. "Thank you. I'll pay for all the drinks, including the ones for your subs."

Bella rolled her eyes and her shoulders sagged. Even though she was usually the most soft-spoken of the three, Rose could see what Bella was thinking. It was as loud as if she yelled it: _One more rejection by a man, and I will kill somebody!_

Alice was practically tearing her clothes off, she was so excited. "I can feel it; it's going to happen this time."

Bella stopped them from leaving her place; blocked them at the front door. "Be realistic, please?" She dropped her gaze then took a deep breath before continuing, "How many times have we heard that there are no male subs at this club?"

"Every time we try to get in under general admission," Rose answered, her heart dropping into a frightening free-fall. "But—"

"But nothing," Bella interrupted. "This time is not going to be different. There are too few males into this kind of lifestyle, and they get snatched up right away. I'm not going to get my hopes up."

Alice had already told them she didn't care tonight if she got a submissive, a switch or even a Dom. She blamed her gorgeous boss, Tim. According to her, he was sexy as hell, and bossy, bossy, bossy. Not her type at all. But for some reason, she liked to fantasize about disciplining and spanking his ass red as she thrust a strap-on into that tight ass of his.

"It's just an hour," Rose said, her voice trailing off. She was losing steam, thanks to Bella.

"Oh, who the fuck cares anymore! It's a guaranteed hookup if we get into that club as staff. I'm going to put myself down as a switch and hope I get lucky by finding the man that can handle my intense need to punish him for not understanding his own body." Alice grabbed her handbag full of her favorite toys and unlocked the door. "_Coming_?" She laughed at the double meaning of her word, swung her purse over her shoulder and refused to wait any longer.

.

.

.

Rose held her breath the moment she stepped into the room.

She coughed right away—the hazy fog of smoke hung dense in the air. Already, she was thinking this was a bad idea. She detested smokers, and it seemed like half the men here were puffing on cigarettes.

Ick!

She would need a shower and have to burn these clothes immediately to get all of the grimy nicotine out of her presence.

Bella looked worse. Her eyes belied her broken spirit.

Stupid Doug, breaking up with Bella. They had such a great relationship, or so Rose thought. Bella was having a hard time getting over it.

Catching him cheating with her best friend from work was devastating. As it was, Bella started a new job this week as well. Nothing seemed to be going the poor woman's way. That was why Rose dragged her friend here. She needed a distraction, even if for only an hour, and that's exactly what this place offered.

The club, Just an Hour, was trying something new to weed out applicants that didn't fit their criteria. They had set up this different type of interview process at a nondescript vanilla restaurant.

They got hundreds of applications a month, and they only accepted one hundred-fifty as trainees, and fifty as trainers, per quarter.

She grabbed a seltzer at the bar and then signed in at the front. Her nerves were buzzing.

This had to work.

Just an Hour knew they were the best BDSM club in California. And she knew she'd fit in if she could fit them.

Rose followed their underground news like a stalker. She salivated at any morsels of information she heard of a male submissive trainee entering their ranks.

Her mind raced with all the possibilities this could bring. She put a number above her right breast, ready to get started.

Rose was sexy, alluring, and she knew it. Her hazel eyes and long, straight platinum blonde hair and voluptuous figure made her look like she belonged on a porno mag.

Men flocked to her, until they found out what she was really like.

Rose took a seat toward the middle, hoping it would increase her chances.

"Please, once you've taken a number, write below it your preference: Dom, submissive, or switch," the mediator announced.

She knew he wasn't one of the owners, so she barely glanced in his direction.

The soft murmur of the crowd made her scalp tingle with the thrill of possibly finding somebody compatible.

She gazed around again, hoping to find at least one of the three Masters, the owners of the club, hidden in the mix.

Would they like and recommend her? Would they respect what she did? She only needed two of the three to give her a glowing recommendation. That was all it required.

She was excellent at interviewing for jobs—this should be no different.

Her eyes went down to her plunging neckline. It was classy—not sleazy.

She hadn't written down her preference on her badge.

Rose didn't want to take it off and mess up the sticker, then she'd have to go get a new one.

Her stilettos were already taking their toll on her ankles.

Instead of walking back up to the front, she stood up, found the closest man with an erection and handed him her Sharpie.

"Excuse me?" she asked, her voice soft and seductive, her eyes sparkling with desire.

He licked his lips—_obnoxious! _But not as nauseating as his blatant ogling.

"How can I help you, pet?" he asked.

Clearly a Dom.

"Can you please write D. O. M. M. E. under my number?" She batted her lashes at him, hoping he wouldn't turn her down right away.

"Sure thing," he said, his thick Texan accent bleeding through.

She shivered at his touch, but not for the reasons he thought.

He was a big ol' turn-off.

"How about I write switch instead?" he offered.

"No thanks." Her tone was colder than the arctic temperature of the room, forcing her nipples to blast right through her blouse and bra.

"Honey, you might want to rethink th—"

"I said, no thanks. If you can't handle a simple task like—"

Rose was cut off by a tall, dark-haired man. "I'll _do it for you_, beautiful."

She turned her eyes on him, only to meet the brightest, electric blue eyes she'd ever encountered.

They looked familiar, but she didn't think anything of it.

She ripped the marker out of the Dom's hands, and handed it to the man labeled as a switch before her, his number twenty-two.

Deuce-deuce was breathing raggedly already, and looking at her like he had a secret. His smirk was allowable, but only because she wanted his help with this simple task.

"You done yet?" she teased.

"I find that taking one's time is always best—you get a better result."

She laughed. His innuendos were immature at best, but he was slightly amusing.

"I hope you find the right woman for you, and this club allows you to train with them," she said.

"Who says I'm going there to be trained?"

"Yeah, you _act_ like a trainer," she mocked him, swallowing down a chuckle. She had to be careful even if this man was a bad joke from some awful B movie.

"Actually," he leaned in to whisper, getting a little too close to her, "I'm just here because I'm buddies with two of the Masters. They wanted me to give them some feedback."

"They do _that_?" her voice rose, even though she was whispering back. Her eyes were calm, but inside she was panicking.

"Of course." He stood back up, smirking. Good Lord, he was tall. She could probably give him a blow job standing up. "They don't always get around to each applicant, so they need some help and outside opinions from patrons of the club."

"You're a patron?" Her mouth went dry.

"Yeah . . ." He smiled and dimples flashed at her, making her wish she had a gag to shut him up. His attitude was disarming. He acted like he was careless, but there was something under the surface more than a rich, arrogant SOB, bored with his life. How she'd love to hear him scream for mercy.

"Well, I hope you enjoy the process," she said, unsure of what else to say.

"I can point them out to you if you'll do a favor for me." He was leaning over her again, his height continuing to be impressive and more noticeable now that she was hyper-aware of everything. It all seemed a ruse—a set-up for her failure. How was she supposed to survive this when the room might be crawling with their spies?

"No thanks. I like to make it on my own merits. I don't cheat." Her right eye twitched and her stomach knotted.

"I'll bet you don't." He chuckled. "I remember that about you." He squeezed her upper arm and then walked away.

What the hell? Did she know this ass?

She stared right at his backside. He did have a fine ass, but he was a moron—driving her nuts inside of five minutes and giving her lock-jaw for something as tedious as clenching her teeth together, rather than something good like a blow job.

He looked over his shoulder, smug look on his face.

Asshole. That's what he was.

And he probably had a nice tight puckered one of those too that she wanted to get ahold of.

Damn, what a waste of a man.

She wound her way back to her seat, and made sure he had written Domme for her. He did. In bold letters. God, he was insufferable. But hopefully she didn't just ruin her chances by being so blatantly rude to him, striking his ego with her independence.

"Hi, there," a man's high pitched voice said.

She was repulsed without even looking at him.

Maybe she should have stayed home like Bella told them all to do.

She hoped her friends were having a good time. So far things were looking worse than take-home Tex-Mex and a DVD of a Channing Tatum movie. Another waste of a fine-looking man. No chance he'd let her fuck him her way.

"Hi," she said, worried about looking up.

"I'm Edward," he said, his tone pleasant, friendly.

_Okay, do it, Rosie-cat, look up. Show him you're in control._

"Just a minute, let me get my notepad out," she said, leaning over, rummaging through her bag and stalling a little.

"No problem." The smile in his voice was obvious.

_Already looking down my blouse. They all do . . ._

"Take your time," he said.

She pulled out the pad of paper, her favorite pen, and opened it to the first blank page.

_Edward_, she wrote with her calligraphic writing.

He waited patiently. So far she liked his attitude, but that voice—yick! Could she demand he be silent now?

Oh, wait . . . That would defeat the purpose of interviewing.

"Okay, so how old are you?" she asked, then braved a glance up.

He was the typical accountant type. Glasses, button up shirt, but decent body. He was cleanly shaved and owned nice green eyes. His confidence was okay, but she wanted a submissive, not a doormat. She'd squash him flat in ten seconds when she grabbed that odd colored hair of his. It was like bronze with glitter in it.

"Twenty-nine," he said.

"And what do you do for a living?" she asked, her resolve sagging. This was a fail. She was a failure. She'd never find the right man willing to let her command he live and breathe only to her contentment as she tied him down and showed him pleasure.

"Um . . . well, right now I'm starting my own business out of my home."

"Oh, yeah? And what type of business is it?" she asked, tapping her index finger on her teeth. God, she wanted to bite him, but not for fun.

"It's a tax consulting business."

"Do I make you nervous?" She glanced down at the pad, already forgetting his name. Oh, yeah . . . Horrid name."Edward?"

"Is that what you're hoping for?" He rubbed at his temple above his glasses.

"Look, I don't want to waste your time, if you're looking for somebody a little less intimidating, might I suggest you look for my friend? Her name is Bella. She's a brunette, short and stacked. Her voice is very soothing and soft, not rough like mine. She'll go easy on you. But don't be fooled, she's a Dominatrix too . . ." Rose filled her lungs, and waited for him to get up.

"It's not supposed to work that like. The rules state—"

"Fuck the rules," she said, her voice hoarse. "This is about control and making my own rules for a man that can trust me enough to do that. _Find_ her—you won't be sorry," She waved him away.

He was flustered as he got up and moved quickly past a few of the Doms around her.

This was a man's world, and she never fit in.

Nothing new.

Ten more interviews came and went, and they were worse than Edward's.

He'd been a little confusing. Some moments he acted like a sub, some he acted like a Dom, but he hadn't written switch on his tag. Was he one of the people the Masters had planted to spy for them?

Her mind raced as she considered how much she wanted this, and all the men she'd dated over the years. It always ended badly when she got bored with letting them be in charge.

It wasn't her fault their skills were lackluster, and she was bored with the typical moves.

Why did they freak out when she wanted to play with their prostate? She knew how to make it feel good.

She sighed, and out of nowhere, the man from the beginning of the evening that wrote on her badge for her, plopped down in the seat across from her.

"So, how's it going, Rosie-cat? Found anybody interested yet?" he asked, smiling.

"First of all, how in the hell do you know my nickname? That kind of information is supposed to be kept from everybody here," she snapped.

He extended his hand across the table, and brushed his hand across the top of hers.

She allowed it, but only because he had connections.

He glanced at her fingers with hunger in his eyes, making her suck in a tight breath to keep from being turned-on by him. Her nails were short, unpolished, but manicured nicely. The way she needed them so she wouldn't hurt her sub—if she ever got one.

"You're hard-core, aren't you?" he egged her on.

"Look, I don't wanna be mean, but I need to see as many people as I can for this. So, if you don't mind, please move on to the next woman and harass her instead." She took a sip of her drink. It tasted flat.

"Not going well, huh? Well, I'm happy to point the Masters out to you now, so you can quit expending so much energy on the assholes that don't deserve your best behavior." He chuckled.

She cocked her head at him. "I told you, I don't ch—"

"Yeah, I got that, and I'm not a switch either. I'm not anything, just a horny fucker wanting to help some friends out." His grin was broader, his dimples deeper, and her patience _so_ gone.

"I don't hand out sexual favors for you or anybody, because I don't need your help," she said. She picked up her pen, tapping it on her pad of paper, full of useless information about men she'd never date or touch, or even blink at. It was shoved back into her bag without another thought.

"I never said I wanted a sexual favor."

"Okay, fine. I'll listen to what you want, then will you leave me alone? And do it without dropping hints about who your buddies are" Her jaw tensed.

"Oh, you'll like this. It's nothing too shocking, but I need some help. There's this woman . . ."

"Oh, God!" she groaned, rolling her eyes and then stretching her neck. She was about ready to kick him in the shins under the table.

"Here, let me help you with that," he said, practically jumping across the table. His big hands were on her shoulders, massaging her. Then it hit her.

She saw those hands a month ago.

"_You_!" She all but screeched, "You're that asshole that groped me on that job site in LA!"

He snickered. "Took you long enough to figure it out. I thought maybe you've had so many lovers since then, that I blended in with the rest of 'em."

She tried to pry his fingers off her shoulders, but he kept massaging with a grip of steel. Sweet Jesus, she hated this man _then_ and she hated him worse _now_.

"I slapped you," she said.

"Yes, you did." He remembered. She heard the smirk in his voice. It was too easy to picture the raging erection it likely induced right behind the back of her head.

He was touching her now, and the idea of that hard-on, bothered her.

But she was uninterested in him, so ignored it. Or tried to, desperately.

"Will you please stop touching me before I vomit?" she hissed.

"Relax, hon, you need my help. And if you're seen as a more flexible Domme, they'll be more likely to pick you. Plus, I'm causing attention to be brought this way. They'll think I'm doing this at your command."

She blinked hard. Dammit, he was right. This just might work.

"Okay, fine. I'll help you out. Who's the woman you're trying to win?" Her teeth ground together.

"She walked in with you, so I figure you know her."

"Brunette?"

"Nah," he said, and she shivered as he hit a deep point in her tissues. "I'm not into brunettes. They're a little too . . . insubstantial for my tastes. I'm into blondes."

Her gut tightened. _Is he talking about me?_

"Well, champ, my other friend considers herself a red-head right now, so if you want to get on her good side you'll refer to her as such." Alice had bleached her hair recently and added a bunch of red highlights, making her look wilder than ever.

"Good to know; thanks for the tip. I needed the help, and I knew you'd have the answers." His smile widened.

Her shoulders tensed up, regardless of his magical hands. Why did she care what this prick thought about Alice?

He leaned over, his lips brushing against her ear as he said, "One of my friends is looking at you right now."

And with that, he let go and moved on to the next station.

She sighed, then took a tentative glance around.

Not at all what she expected. It was the geek with the glasses: Edward.

Great!

**A/N:**

**A few months ago, I went on a quest to read published erotica (had never read any before) since I was a fan of MOTU, and of course, her published version, Fifty Shades. I wanted to see why some people gave E. L. James some scathing reviews on both Amazon and Goodreads. The funny thing is, after reading several published erotica stories, I can see both points of view—I understand the haters and lovers. And in this process, got hooked to a few fabulous erotica writers.**

**This story is my homage to several stories I've read that I love, and also to relieve my frustration over finding nothing but crap when it came to stories of female Dommes.**

**I figured I'd share with you some of the tiles of the stories I admire in some of my A/Ns.**

**Let me start you off with my favorite series to date. It's Master at Arms. It's about former marines who are Doms and open up a BDSM club together. Since I self publish, and Kallypso Master does too, I really admire this author and champion her amazing success with these books. Her writing is crazy good and so emotionally engaging. She's really nice too; I've chatted with her online a few times. Love, love, love Master Adam (who's 20 years older than the woman he falls for) and Master Damian, with a self-loathing inducing disability, which he struggles to overcome constantly.**

**P.S. Almost all of these characters will be severely OOC, and there will be some differences in physical attributes. I'm taking creative license since this wasn't originally written as a Twilight fan fic. It's not so much laziness on my part to leave it that way; it's more the hankering to switch things up and make this different. I mean, how sick to death are we all of shopaholic, pixie Alice? I loved her in the Twilight series, but I need a break from the stereotypical fan fic version of her. If the bleached blonde hair with red highlights didn't tell you she would be quite a bit different in this one, then I don't know what ta tell ya.**

**Ta!**

**Chanse**


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2**

"You're the prettiest mama here," a man said, plunking himself down before Rose.

She was in a daze. Had she already blown her chances, basically skewering Edward's dick with her piercing stare when he had sat before her? How rude had she been? She was trying to replay in her mind every little thing she'd said and done in his preference. He was one of the _owners_? How did she wind up being the one fucked? That was her job to do that to a sub.

"Just do me a favor first," she said, barely audible.

"Yes, I'll touch your tits and tell you if they're real," he joked.

She set her fist on the table and gave him a look that said his spleen would be in his rear-end soon if he didn't shut it.

"You want me to gag you and shove a corkscrew up that ass, huh?" She loosened her fist and glanced back over at Edward.

The clown across from her shoved off from the table, and glowered. "There's a difference between Domination and being a heinous cow!"

She tipped her head back and groaned. Would somebody slit her wrists now and end this torment?

When she sat up, she checked at her watch.

She had fifteen minutes left.

Fifteen minutes to hopefully impress somebody—_anybody_!

A gorgeous, tall man in a tailored suit sat down in front of her. He had dark eyes and a five o-clock shadow that would melt any submissive's heart. His body language screamed Dom.

"You look like you could use a friend," his deep baritone said, matching his dark stare and demeanor. His sandy blond hair was tousled in a sexy, very masculine way.

"I have friends. I came with two of them, but after submitting them to this cock and bullshit night, they'll probably never return my phone calls." She wiped her hands across her face. She never felt so emotionally raw in her entire life. It was apparent she wanted this more than anything—maybe too much.

"What would getting into the club mean to you?" he asked. His gaze was impassive, even though his words pried deep into her soul.

"Everything," she sighed, staring at him, unimpressed with his physically enticing aura. She imagined strapping this big guy down, forcing him to come only when _she'd_ allow it, and then strapping on and riding him with her feeldoe.

His thoughts were no doubt similar; only reversed.

Incompatible.

"How so?" He tipped forward, listening intently.

"Where do I start?" She searched for the right words. "You know that portion of your heart that you hide from the rest of the world?" He nodded. "Well, if I don't get in there, I fear it'll die away, and I don't want it to. It's the core of me—who I am. Nobody understands it, not even my femdom friends. They're not . . . Hell, they told me to give up. But I can't. This is . . . I crave dominating a man, to show him I can give him something he won't find anywhere else. I have a passion for men, but it burns them the wrong way. I know my chances are slim of even finding the right submissive in that club, but dammit, I'm out of options." Her breathing was ragged, and she was damp, for the first time tonight, she was fully aroused as she thought of what she could do in that place.

"And what would you do if you were allowed to train?" he asked.

She fisted her tight skirt under the table now. He was setting her on edge, making her spill her dark dreams.

"Oh, God, what _wouldn't_ I do? I'd never hold back, and I'm sure the trainees would despise me, but I want to make them stretch, reach for more. I want them to see where I can take them. I want them to lose themselves at my touch as I milk their prostate, suck them clean, and then demand they get it up again while I smack their ass until it's red with life."

All she got in returns was an intense gaze.

"I'm sorry, but are you a switch? Because your tag says you are, but you sure don't exude the qualities of one." She pointed at the sticker on his chest.

He remained silent for a moment. His lips moved, but stayed closed. He took a breath and finally said, "Stay here for a minute, and don't talk to anybody else. I'll be right back."

He left.

Forget this. She'd already made an ass of herself. So, she got up and shook her head at herself; upset she told a mere stranger moments ago what a psycho she was.

She went in search of her friends to find most of the room had cleared out. Her friends were gone.

Fabulous.

She looked at her watch. It was ten past the hour. Times up.

How long had she been talking to that last man? Longer than she thought.

She'd said too much.

Rose marched back over to her chair where she had been sitting, grabbed her bag then hauled off and kicked the chair across the room, fuming at the loss of another chance to be herself.

"Uuuungh!" she grunted at the force of her kick.

Her aim was good. It didn't hit anything, so no harm done to the establishment.

She stalked toward the door, giving one last fleeting view of the room. The guy that massaged her and heckled her earlier was talking to Edward, the geek, and the other man she just bore her heart to.

Oh this was even better. They were no doubt comparing notes about what a moron she was.

Fuck them. She didn't need this.

Her life was good. She excelled at her job as a lawyer, she was successful at everything she tried, except this—her sex life and her willful attitude that just ruined her chances for fulfillment, were pissing her off.

As Rose pushed on the door to make a hasty exit, the man she last spoke with gripped her upper arm, halting her.

Her reflexes said to slap him, but she didn't. They'd never let in if she did that.

"You ready to join us?"

"_What_?" Her heart rate sputtered then spiked. "You'll take me?"

"Yeah, we know what's it like, trying to find your way in this lifestyle."

"Are you a Dom? What about Edward? Is he a switch?" she asked him.

"We had to cover up who we were tonight, and Edward acted as the submissive but I don't think very many people bought it. He's not good at pretending he likes being a bottom." Edward rolled his eyes and this guy kept going, "We're both Doms. We don't have a male submissive on staff right now. We had a few femdoms in attendance tonight, so we were trying to get a feel for them."

"And if I came on board, you think I'd attract male submissives?" God, she hoped so. It made her wetter to think of them seeking her out, not the other way around. Her way was not working.

"We'd advertise you, and I'm sure we'd get a decent influx of them to check you out," he said. "We all agree you'd be a great addition."

The guy who'd been massaging her shoulders earlier moved up next to her. Was there a reason he was standing this close? Did he want something from her?

"Tell them they won't regret it," he said, leaning toward her, grinning.

"You're an idiot—did you tell them how you know me?" Her eyes narrowed. "Are you doing this so I'll set you up with my friend?"

"No. I want them to see what I see. Go ahead—push me. Show them what you can do."

"Why would I do that? Are you mocking me?"

"I wouldn't even know how to accomplish that with you. Do it."

"You don't have to d—" Edward began.

"It's all right," she gave Edward a look, "if he wants this, then I'll do it."

Her pincer fingers found his nipples without her ever looking at his chest; they were cinching down on them. He stood there and took it.

She gripped harder. His pupils dilated and his breath hitched.

He _was_ into this, and it turned her on, damn him. Switch? He'd make a Domme really happy if he'd stop being so lippy.

Fuck. She didn't want him. He was unworthy of her time or energy. She despised him and his ego—and his groping large hands. He'd already made a fool of her at that work site.

"Stop being so defensive. They don't care if you've had a rough day and talked to irritating people tonight. Relax. They don't care what you do for work." He exhaled.

"And neither do you, or you wouldn't have touched my ass at work. Did it make you feel good to show all of your construction buddies you can take advantage of a woman on a construction site?"

"No one saw it, but me. I couldn't help it, you were wearing that skirt and—"

"Oh, so I asked for it, is that what you're saying? She twisted her fingers, but fuck him, he was still standing and his eyes were heavy hooded, filled with desire.

He liked this shit, and she wasn't holding back at all. What the fuck was she going to do with him?

"C'mon. Push me harder," he said.

She sighed. " Fine. Get me my bag."

The man behind her handed it to her. Was he helping out merely out of curiosity?

"You think you're playing a game with me, don't you?" she asked, her face inches from the man she was glaring at and pinching as hard as she could.

"I don't play games like this," he said, wincing a little. "I want to help you."

The bag was over her shoulder so she let go with her right hand, dug inside it and came up with what she wanted.

"Games? Like where the woman explains the rules and the man is punished if he doesn't follow them?" She smiles. "I know, I know, don't stop to get directions; only pussies do that. So, I'm going to put the directions on your body, then you don't have to rely on anybody else."

She fished out the object she needed, and tucked it in her bra for a moment for safe keeping.

"Ready to be pushed?" she asked the man before her.

"Yeah." He nodded.

She unzipped his pants but left the button in place at the top.

"Emmett, come on, man, we get it. She's already in. You don't have to do this," Edward said, his eyes widening.

"No. I want her to," Emmett insisted. "It's fine."

"_Emmett_, is it?" She smirked. "Such an ordinary name for such a well-endowed cock." She rubbed him from outside his pants, then plunged her fingers right inside. Her hands deftly opened his boxers, and she stroked him a few more times.

Her pinching of his nipple, and her tight stroke made him moan and his legs shook. She snapped on the metal cock ring.

"That's good, big guy. Now, you're going to keep this on all night long. I want that cock straight up while you sleep. And if you come, other than a nocturnal emission, then I want to know about it. If you can keep it in check then call me in the morning, and I'll give you my friend's phone number. If you lose, I'll join the club, _and_ I'll do whatever your friends want me to do, including being _their_ submissive in training. They can break me. But remember this, if you come, you lose in so many more ways than I ever will. You'll prove you're not as much a man in control of his dick as you think you are. You'll prove you're not much better than a premature ejaculator." She let go of him and stepped away.

He made a groaning sound like his inhale was forced.

Rose pulled the item out of her bra, and then without looking, snapped her toy tight around the base of his balls and cock.

He zipped himself back up.

Her light pat on his cock made him jump and his breath choke off. The look of surprise and raw passion there, almost suffocated her, It seemed there was a lack of air in the vicinity. She couldn't breathe at all. This was so hot! All of it.

The back of her neck was wet with perspiration and her whole chest was heated.

"Sssffff . . . ." He stepped way and adjusted himself.

"Sensitive already?" she questioned, her voice raspy with desire.

"Yeah." Emmett looked down at his bulging cock.

It was weird for him—she knew this. Some of the feeling had to be gone already since the blood was trapped, but at the same time it was supposed to be hot and prickly when she touched it.

"This isn't safe. He can't keep that thing on all night," the other Dom said.

"Have you ever tried it before?" she asked him.

"No, but I know my toys, and every cock ring says—"

"They have to say that. It keeps them from being sued when some idiot has it too tight. I made sure his cock can pulse enough and the blood can get through. It's not a tourniquet. I want him to keep his dick; my friend might actually like him . . . or something . . ." She grinned. "He's a big boy. If it hurts, he can adjust it, or if it's too much, he can take it off. I didn't solder it in place." She gripped her purse, pushed it up her shoulder and turned back toward the door, ready to leave.

"Wait!" Emmett said, startling her. "Your phone number, in case I need to get a hold of you for purple balls or explosive climax accidents."

She smiled and then walked back over to him.

"You think you're really going to call me if you come? You'll be too embarrassed." She grabbed one of her business cards out of her bag anyway, flipped it over and wrote down her cell number.

"You can't seriously be thinking about doing this," Edward said to Emmett.

"Why not? Consider this her real interview," Emmett said, shrugging. "The one she wished she'd been given. I'm sure this was less frustrating for her."

She patted his ass now, like he was a small child; handed him the card.

"Good boy. I may grow to like you yet . . ." Her eyes shimmered with satisfaction, and her shoulders relaxed as she gazed at him before leaving.

It was a relief to touch a man, to exert control for a few small moments. Her heart was hammering as she walked to her car. A click on her key fob, and she was inside, driving away as fast as possible before she turned around and made him come home with her.

.

.

.

Emmett stepped outside and watched her go.

"Why'd you let her do that?" Edward stood rigid at his side. "I think this is a mistake to take her on. She was a snob when I interviewed her."

"I thought you were the first one to say we needed to hire a femdom right away," Emmett reminded him.

"She needs some serious training. That woman's out of control, and I don't have time to deal with training her," Jasper said.

Emmett chuckled silently, thinking about how amazing she was.

"I like her . . . A lot," Emmett said, awestruck, his eyes still following her car driving off. "She's different. And the club needs more variety. I'll help her. You don't need to train her. She's a little rough around the edges, but she's got a lot of potential."

Edward turned on him. "Give me a break. You're a Dom; you know you can't stand topping from the bottom, and you just let her . . ."

"I haven't been a Dom in a long time. It's not me anymore. I've changed." Emmett was out of breath still. God, she was on fire, and she put that flame in him as well. He'd lost that spark a long time ago. He wanted her; wanted to see her succeed and be happy.

"She put a discontinued toy on you. The super acht eight ring pinches like hell and digs into your skin. You're gonna trust her if she's using toys like that already?" Jasper stared at him.

"She made sure to angle the cock ring in a way so it's not pinching. I said it's fine, and it is," Emmett replied.

"She's going to figure out pretty quick you're the silent partner in this deal, Emmett." Jasper pulled out his car keys. "How long do you think you're gonna keep this quiet?"

"I already told her you guys were my buddies. She didn't want my help, and she sure as hell didn't want any favors to get your attention. That woman is honest to a fault. No wonder men run from her," Emmett said, then thought about how she might react if he told her upfront. "It probably won't matter anyway. She only wanted to get her foot in the door, and she has that now."

"So does this mean you're back in the club; are we going to be seeing your ass around, finally?" Jasper pulled his phone out next and checked it.

"Yeah, I finally have a reason to come back. And I think I'll be the first one there tomorrow. I can do what she's asked. I'll figure out a way to get her to the club tomorrow morning. She can release me from this cock ring, and then we'll get her to sign on. I'll take full responsibility for her."

"This is a mistake. Our patrons expect a certain amount of discretion and professionalism. She's a hack; clueless what it means to be Dominant." Edward frowned.

"She deserves a chance, and she'll try really hard to figure this all out." Emmett twitched, thinking about what else she might do to him tomorrow.

"You. Are. Definitely. Not getting through the night unscathed, and with a dry dick." Edward smirked, smacked him on the back.

Emmett nodded. "No doubt. She's . . . fuck!" He gritted his teeth, and readjusted himself.

"Looks like she's got a submissive already," Jasper mused, "rather than a trainer."

"No. She can't stand me, that's why she chose to prove herself with me. She felt unattached. I did it to help her feel better before she left. You saw her kick that chair. She was really disappointed with how things went tonight." Emmett shifted his weight. This cock ring was heavy, tugging a little at the base.

Jasper shrugged. "If you're up for it, then I've got no problem with it."

Edward laughed. "I'm fine with it, too, if you can deal with her. I don't have time to train her either, and I don't know if any of other Doms would want to deal with her attitude; she's disrespectful. Even after she knew who we were, she was still acting like a bratty sub. She's going to be trouble, but if you don't mind." He shrugged.

"I don't mind at all. I can handle it," Emmett reassured them.

Jasper started to walk away when Emmett stopped him.

"Hey, wait a minute. Did we get her friends into the club, too?" Emmett thought Rose might relax even more if her friends were accepted as well.

"Only one of them. Bella left before I could talk to her about it," Edward answered.

"You got her phone number, though, right?" Emmett asked Edward.

"Yeah, but I'm not gonna cold-call her." Edward was tense.

Emmett knew his friend's look—he was dying to get to his sub right away and blow off some steam. Tonight had been stressful. That man did not possess a submissive or meek bone in his body, and after pretending to be one for even a short period of time, he was restless.

"_I'll_ call her. I'll call all three tomorrow." Emmett walked back inside, grabbed the sign-in folder and his belongings.

Tomorrow all three of them would be shocked at his wakeup call.

Rose would eventually train others. Her draw would bring in male subs by the dozens. And he could already envision her unorthodox ways of breaking them down.

The jealousy was already rising. His heart clenched like there was a cock ring around it, too, tighter than the one on his dick.

Could he act like he was a new trainee? Continue with his charade? He could help her find her way.

It had killed him to not tell her immediately he was the engineer on site that day several weeks ago, overseeing the construction crew when she stepped onto the grounds. She was so hot, and unaware of him, he had to get her attention somehow.

Women always noticed him. He was sharp, good-looking with his angular jaw, the deep blue eyes and broad shoulders. His stance even commanded a good hard look, but she was unaffected.

Dammit.

It hurt to be unnoticed by her.

Well, no more of that. Rose would see him and realize he was worth knowing.


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3**

"That jackass," Rose muttered, rolling out of bed.

She was rankled already by his text. He demanded she meet him at the club.

Apparently her display of Domination was too weak.

He was giving her a half hour to get showered, get dressed and meet him there.

Either he was a sub and didn't know it, or he was a glutton for punishment. Probably the latter.

A true submissive wouldn't test her like this, barking out orders and thinking it was funny.

She packed up her bag with a few more tools she might need to put him in his place. After she showered quickly, threw on a short skirt, a tank top and a button up, demure blouse over it, she was almost ready to go.

The only item screaming sex appeal on her person was her five inch heels with straps. Those babies were not coming off when she straddled him and tortured him until he was crying like a baby.

Emmett—the cry baby.

Had a good ring to it, and she was brave enough to do whatever she wanted.

This was all a trick. They were never going to let her into that club.

She knew that now.

Elitist snobs. It was a boys' club, and they didn't respect her as a Domme.

Once again . . . she was left out.

Oh well. At least she'd fuck him over today real good, and give him a taste of what the club was missing.

It was guaranteed. She'd not leave until she finished him off.

She applied a light coating of makeup, put her hair up so it'd be out of her way, and left without eating breakfast.

She was going to have something high in protein inside her stomach soon enough.

He'd probably come like a teen as soon as her lips touched his tip.

She smiled, her groin tingling.

Cock. He had a nice big one. And she loved them big. The bigger, the more she enjoyed squeezing them and caging them up.

Like a beast she had to tame.

Christ she wanted to get off.

She drove like a mad-woman to the club, but was aware it was counter-productive to seem overly-eager, so she slowed down as she neared the parking lot.

Emmett was outside waiting for her, and his cock was making its demands known, practically ready to jackhammer through the parking lot asphalt to get at her.

Good. She wanted him raw and begging.

She took her time getting out of the car and setting her bag over her shoulder.

If she really wanted to be mean, she would have worn that tight black pencil skirt she wore that day he manhandled her backside on the work site.

But she was too groggy this morning when she got dressed to conjure that thought up.

Next time.

_Next time?_ There was to be no repeats. This was a one way ticket; in, out, get him there and leave.

She should have had some coffee before she left home.

Her regrets were already multiplying as she approached him and saw the grin of satisfaction on his face.

"I made it all night, hon," he said, smug.

"Good for you. I'm sure your boys are hating you right about now," she said, joining him on the sidewalk out front.

"My friends don't factor in," he said, referring to his pals.

She stepped right in front of him, stroked his tight, yet bulging sack. "These boys . . . The ones I tied up and kept hostage."

He was panting hard immediately. "Let's go inside," he said.

She offered a lazy grin, and nodded, releasing her hold on him. At least the tactile one.

He was so hooked in that moment—his eyes on fire—it should've been downright sickening to her. It wasn't.

Her whole insides resembled his eyes; flames of electric desire.

"Are they gonna let us in?"

"I've got the keys; they said I could show you around, and they even left the paperwork out so you could join us." He smiled at her, and his boyish charm was . . . hell, she hated to admit it, but she liked the sap.

A little anyway.

Enough to want to relieve his suffering, and that was saying something.

_Yeah, something incredibly stupid about you, cat. He is not what you're looking for . . ._

"How'd you sleep?" she asked, following him with her tight gaze as he opened the place up and let her in.

"That's a rather nasty question to ask. Try something a little more appropriate for breakfast conversation," he said.

He led her into the first public playroom.

She was home. Every corner was tailor-made for her. This was heaven.

The smell of leather, cleaners and lingering cologne from the night before made her senses zing, and yearn for a taste, an up-close look and touch.

She was roaming absentmindedly around the room, fingering everything.

He watched her. She could see out of the corner of her eye, his chest was lifted, full of the promise of life. Of pleasure.

"Wanna try anything out? You can use me," he offered.

She slanted her head at him with a narrowed eye and an uplifted brow. "Ready to burst, are we?"

"With fruit flavors, baby," he teased.

"The fruit is gone, all that's left is milk, and I'll milk you, but only when I'm good and ready," she said.

The way she glided around the room—my God, she _was_ floating. She was born to run this place; all she needed was to put on her latex and have her whip in-hand.

But, other things needed to take place first; his dick was about to burst through the cock ring at this point, like the Hulk's clothes ripping through the seams as he transformed into a beast.

"I wouldn't have it any other way," he agreed.

Her eyes were on the Esse in the corner. This one had the D rings attached. The version she had at home was the base, original model.

"How often do they wash this cover?" she asked, running her hands over the black suede top layer.

He chuckled. "They have dozens of covers. It gets washed after each patron uses it."

Wow. This place was stunning.

"And what about swings? Do they have any?"

"Uh, not that I know of," he said, looking ashamed as if he hadn't ever thought to put some in.

His feet shuffled and his arms dangled like they didn't know what to do.

She frowned. "That's unfortunate. The best way to fuck a guy from behind is to have his ass up in a swing; allow him to jackoff while being taken."

His eyes grew wide, and his breathing stopped.

She smiled.

"I'll suggest my pals get right on that," he said.

These owners were idiots of the highest order. How fucking hard would it be for them to have a swing room? Would be a great addition.

"Of course, it's even hotter if he allows a simultaneous spanking," she mused aloud.

She was still strolling about the room, appraising it all. There was no hurry to leave it.

"Fuuuuuck," he muttered under his breath; palmed himself lightly for a second.

"You have a thing for asses," he stated.

She smiled. "All men have a thing for their own asses, since it's their only hole besides their mouth that can be fucked. They just don't realize they like it until I show them. Some men can't admit they want it up the ass."

"And what about you? You like to receive as well?"

Her smile dropped. "Don't know. I've only had plugs, vibrators, beads and dildos up there. I love them all, so I'm sure I'd enjoy it."

"Wait a minute," he rubbed the place she slapped him last night on his tight jaw, "you mean you've never made a man take you in the ass?"

She chuckled. "Shocking, I know. Most of them can't get past my bossiness. Never got far enough to tell them if they let me strap on and ride their asshole, I'd return the favor."

He turned around, and she could tell he was cupping himself. Was the poor Emmett-cry-baby ready to shoot off any minute as visions of her taking him then letting him do the same to her, took hold of his brain?

Her whole chest warmed like heated honey was fanning out across her skin.

"I'm game," he squeaked.

"I'm sure you are. But, honey, have you ever had anything in your ass at all?"

He gulped. "Yeah."

Without her command, he stripped and prostrated himself on the ground before her. His eyes were filled with worry and dare she say . . . vulnerability? This was definitely new to him.

She loved ass virgins. Not that she'd ever had anything different than that, but still . . .

It was that anticipation they choked on that made her realize how much she loved helping somebody this way—unleashing what lay inside their heart.

It was all about being in the head first, their ass second, and their heart last.

But he wasn't ready for this. She needed to take up his entire brain before she could truly get anywhere with him.

She frowned. "What in the hell do you think you're doing?"

"Giving you full command of my body, Mistress."

She could barely breathe. A surge of adrenaline and searing heat wafted through her chest. This was happening? He was really going to do this for her? Ready or not? He had to know he needed more prep.

"Why?" she asked, breathless.

The sight of this gorgeous naked man on the ground in front of her, begging her to take him and do as she pleased, spoke to her inner demons on so many levels.

_Fuck prep work. Take him!_

Salivating on him might be a problem.

Good God, but he had a fine toned ass.

And his legs were well muscled, thick and strong.

He could support her if she jumped on him and rid him while he was restrained.

Holy shit. Her throat constricted and her mouth watered.

"Stand up. Let me look at you and the damage I inflicted yesterday, and I'll ascertain if you can take more," she barked.

He scrambled to his feet, kept his gaze down, like trained countless subs were taught to do.

She was reeling. What happened to the swagger he flaunted last night?

This man was mush in her hands.

Maybe this could work?

She dragged her finger tips over his nipples. They were an angry pink from her torture last night, but not bruised.

She'd try harder next time . . .

His cock matched that color, only red at the tip.

Yes, he was a specimen to behold. A long, straight, thick cock. It was a decent length, but the girth was what she marveled at last night. Every woman wanted it thick, not long. Most men were clueless about that.

She liked to have her cervix unharmed in case she ever lost her sense and decided she wanted to have a baby.

"This is a meaty cock; what a beast. Women must drip at the thought of having it inside them."

"Yes, mistress? They have, and they do. How about you?" His voice was a soft velvet coat, wrapping her up in security.

"You think I should answer that, or make you wait to see for yourself?"

He twitched, and sucked in some air. Holding still seemed to be damn near impossible for him at this point; she loved watching him squirm. She continued to run her fingers over his abs and drag them near his cock, but never touching it.

She waltzed around him, inspecting every inch of him.

Suddenly, her breasts were pushing into his back. "When I touch your pecs from behind, I expect you to either put your hands behind your head and interlace your fingers, or if we're near a wall, put your palms on it. Spread like I'm gonna frisk you." Her finger began probing his crack after he did as she commanded.

He was shaking and little intoxicating grunts would come out of him every few seconds. She could imagine his face contorting in pain and pleasure.

"Mistress . . . I'll do anything you want or need," he said, voice cracking.

"I think you'll try, but whether or not you can survive, that's another matter entirely." She nipped at his ear. So fucking sexy—watching a man surrender all that he was, and taking this risk.

Her hands flew around him and landed on his chest. She had to touch all of him, know exactly what she did to him.

"What was I supposed to . . . ?" He reached back behind himself for her.

"Hands!"

He snapped them behind his head, almost taking her eye out.

She laughed. "Better. I like your enthusiasm; I'll give you a pat for that."

Her right hand dropped down, petting his dick.

"Mmmmuuuuuuh," he whimpered a dying moan.

"Have you had your prostrate milked before?"

"No."

"I figured as much. Your inexperienced," she sneered.

She could feel it building inside him; the desire to protest, tell her he was all man and knew a woman's body inside and out.

A chuckle burst out of her.

What was the point of knowing a woman's body if he didn't even know his own?

"You're used to the equivalent of clitoral orgasms, but tell me this, would you rather make a woman come from your shitty finger on her clit, or with your dick inside, rubbing on her G-spot so she squirts all over you while you're inside her?"

"_Chriiiiist_!" he moaned.

"Exactly," she droned, pushing her finger in to greet his tight anus.

"Fuck," he cursed, his cheeks flexing nicely.

"Over on the spanking bench, but I'm not gonna let you touch yourself today. I want a swing for that. Lean over it, hands behind your back." She pulled her finger back out.

"You're gonna tie me down?"

"No. You're not ready for that. I'm only immobilizing your hands so you don't touch yourself."

"You don't trust me?" His hands fell at his side.

She walked around to stand before him, scrutinized him and pointed her chin at his hands. "You're already a lousy sub, my beast."

He frowned. "Sorry."

"You will be when you're crying out for me to finish you," she said, jerking her head toward the spanking bench.

The leather looked soft, so she was certain he could do this.

"Oh, and if you come on the bench, you're licking it off 'til it's clean," she warned, then she squeezed his ass hard.

Good, tight ass. She loved the way it felt in her hands.

He draped himself dutifully over the padding, and placed his hands on the small of his back.

She grabbed her bag and was right behind him.

He whimpered; no doubt at the battle raging between his dick, wanting nothing more than to succumb to her, and his head and pride, bristling at him.

"Feels good already, doesn't it?" she asked.

He nodded his head, with a torn look of being insecure and unsure.

"I'm only gonna tell you right now before I restrain you, what I plan to do, although I reserve the right to improvise based on your reactions and behavior."

He nodded and licked his bottom lip.

"I'm gonna stroke your prostate and milk it some. It'll feel funny at first, because some of your ejaculate will come out even without an orgasm taking place, but then when I think you've had enough, I may or not stroke you. I haven't decided if I want to use my tongue or not."

"How will you use your t—"

_Slap!_

"Shhhhh!" she demanded, smacking his ass so hard she hoped he was thinking now she was taking it easy on his face last night. This one might bruise.

"Holy hell, woman, take it easy. I'm not back-talking, just asking a fucking question!"

"Interrupting is worse than back-talk. It shows a lack of trust," she said.

Then bondage tape was winding around his wrists, binding them together. Too late to back out now.

"Why tape?" she asked the question for him. "I find metal too harsh on the skin, except on the cock."

Another feeble whimper from him.

When she leaned over him to rip the tape with her teeth, he stiffened; her breasts pushed into him again.

"Mistress? A request, please?" His voice shook hard; almost as hard as his needy cock.

"Denied. I know what you want already."

Her clothes were now piled on the floor below her. He needed to have her flesh on him, her nipples boring holes into his back the next time she leaned over him.

_Bzzzzzz._

Oh shit, yeah. Time for his virgin ass to feel a vibrator. Who said those were exclusively for women?

Sphincters loved the motion, and the numbing sensation from a good strong one.

He struggled to move his arms. He probably wanted to take it away from her.

She draped her body over his, but was still able to maneuver her hand down to his scrotum.

"Feel everything, stop worrying about what's manly or macho. You need this, and I do too." She ran it slowly along his taint, then up the base of his shaft.

He was wiggling his hips around, trying to find some friction for his cock.

There was nothing but air.

She fought off a moan. He thought he was being tortured? He had no idea what this was doing to her.

"Lie still, or I may have to resort to more drastic measures."

He froze.

She placed the vibrator right there. His whole body was uptight upon contact.

She anticipated his every thought: _It's wrong to have something there. I'm to penetrate, not be penetrated._

"Wait, I—"

She sucked in her finger, lubing it up with her saliva, then replaced the vibrator with it, edging it slowly inside.

There would be some sting at first, but she probed gently, stretching around the rim in the most erotic way possible. Once he loosened up, he'd be amazed at the sensations.

She'd make a convert out of him. Somebody that liked to grope an unsuspecting woman's ass, needed to know it went both ways.

"Ohhhhhhh," he gritted through his teeth, arching his back, extending his ass up to her.

"Yes, exactly like that . . . I know you like this . . ." she cooed. "Men understand that woman have a high tolerance for pain; it's part of their genetic makeup to birth babies. And women know how to connect with that pain and turn it into something positive. Like a mom, after she births her baby and goes through agonizing torment, she bonds with that baby; they've survived it together. Now, the same thing happens to a female sub when pain is delivered to her, followed with a reward of a mind-blowing orgasm." Her finger was deeper inside him, rocking in and out, making her dizzy with lust.

He moaned.

"How do you think that translates when she's delivering the pain and pleasure? She understands it better than a man ever will. So, if you let me, sweetheart, I can give you pleasure like you've never dreamed, but first the pain . . ."

"Ahhhhhhh!" he yelled.

Two fingers were inside him, scissoring apart, stretching his sphincters until they were close to being on fire.

"Relax . . . Bear down," she said.

"Is that a joke? I'm not giving birth, you sick bitch!"

He was shifting, trying to buck her off him.

She slapped his ass so hard this time, she could hear him bite his tongue.

"Oooowwwww . . . Please stop," he said.

"Now, I know your club's safeword is red, like your ass. Wanna use it?"

He refused to give up, shaking his head.

If he thought she'd stop on her own, he was more clueless than she thought.

"Stop before you get the reward? How silly would that be?"

The stretch, the burn would have slowed by now, so the thrusting was back; deeper and thicker this time.

As his body relaxed into it and started absorbing the tingling sensation of nerves sparking inside, she rewarded him by stroking in a spot near his pubic bone. There were a lot of nerves there unused to being touched.

"Oh, that's . . . fuck, babe, you have no idea how silky smooth the inside of your ass is, and how nice your prostate feels under my fingers," she purred.

She leaned over him and sucked his earlobe into her wet, hot mouth.

"Please, Mistress . . . I need to come so badly!"

"And you will, but first I want you to tell me how it feels," she urged.

"I . . . I can't," he grunted, struggling with the ties again.

"Does it hurt?"

"No."

"Does it feel good?"

"Yes, but it . . . but I-I don't know . . ." He groaned.

His jaw clenched tight.

"Answer me this . . . if I stop—"

"No, don't stop!" he blurted.

"That's what I thought . . ." She smiled and shifted off him. Her pussy was throbbing with need, and her breathing was too loud and ragged for him to believe she was in control.

But Rose needed to taste it.

See it.

And he was having a hard time letting go completely.

"Now, I need to have that come in my mouth as I milk you. So I'm gonna untie your wrists, but then I expect you to turn over and place your hands above your head, hands clasped together in surrender. Clear?"

"Yes, Mistress."

She plunged her two fingers inside him once more, reluctant to free him. He might bolt, freak out when freed, and not allow her to complete his orgasm.

Methodically, she unwound the tape, and watched him carefully for a reaction.

He turned over and his eyes smoldered so hot at her, she almost mounted him right then.

"Very good, my big boy. That cock will be rewarded," she said with lust in her eyes.

His back slid up the leather. He winced; his butt was probably still stinging from her resounding slaps, but it was apparent he was anxious to have her mouth on him, so he ignored the pain.

"Leave your ass hanging over the edge, so I have full access," she demanded.

He closed his eyes, tipping his head back and did as she asked.

She made it sound on purpose like it was the most sinful thing ever simply to have his crack exposed.

His hands went up as she instructed, and she strung the tape around his wrists.

He jerked a little, so she attached it to the base of an eyebolt sticking up out of the ground, not far from the bench.

She'd have to keep tabs on how long he stayed this way. His arms might get sore or lose feeling.

Rose dragged her hands down his arms, pleasuring in the tightness of his muscles. He took good care of himself, and it showed.

His abs were especially delicious, so she took a taste on her way down.

He strained to watch her, lifting his neck so he could see.

She returned his gaze with a feline smile, and then before taking him in her mouth, she pushed her fingers back inside.

With a come hither motion, she restarted the wave motion in his rectum.

It was tighter than when she retreated, because he had to readjust in this new position, but it was easier getting him to tune into the sensations when there was eye contact involved.

"Oh, my fucking God! I love seeing your fluids pool at the tip," she said, eyes hungrily focused on his head.

His hips thrust forward as her tongue dipped down and tasted the dew.

One of the great things about this club? They were very thorough when it came to making sure everybody was clean. She was still breaking a rule though—no oral in the club without signing waivers ahead of time. But it was before hours. Who was going to tell?

Emmett didn't strike her as the type to rat about something like this, not when he was getting what he sorely needed.

Her finger pushed harder on his prostrate, and he moaned so loud she was worried she hurt him.

"You okay? Need to safe-word?" Her eyes were on his face. She'd know if he was lying.

"No, continue," he gritted, slamming his hips up, and staring at her intently.

"You sure I'm not hurting you?"

"Fucking take it in your mouth!" he grunted.

She smiled; pushed his hips back down with one hand while giving him a casual in and out thrust in his ass with the other.

"Milking takes time, honey, and I want the cream, not just the watery skim milk," she explained.

"Fuck!" he groaned, dropping his head back down.

He was turning a little purple at the tip. With how engorged he was and that cock ring doing its job . . . Yeah, he was feeling the pressure of this teasing.

Her velvet tongue wrapped around him, and her fingers prodded deeply into his male G-spot.

It was too intense, too much, based on his long drawn out moan. That sound, caused her to pull her fingers out, crawl up on top of him and plunge him inside of her.

He gasped.

"Rubber," he breathed.

"You're a member, right?"

"Yeah."

"Good enough for me." She had the birth control shot, and she knew he was clean, or they wouldn't allow him in. Membership fees included the costs of finding this stuff out, getting a clean bill of health.

She sat up, turned around, went into reverse cowgirl then leaned over, her ass almost in his face and she pushed her fingers back inside.

The second she pushed that prostate, he exploded in cries and pleas, "Stop, God, no, don't stop. Fuck me, woman! Harder!"

She gave him what he asked for in the order of his demands.

Stopped, restarted and fucked him as hard as she could as her fingers milked that little fucker inside him.

"Christ!" he screamed. "Ohhhhhhhh fuck! Unnnnhhhhh."

He was writhing around under her, losing all control, coming harder than she imagined he could.

The sounds he made pushed her over so fast, she was squeezing him tight as she convulsed and rocked with her overwhelming orgasm.

Finally!

Hell yeah!

She finally was allowed to get off while milking a man's prostrate. And it was . . .

Oh, God, she couldn't breathe and her head was so cloudy, she almost felt dizzy. She worried she might fall of him if he didn't stop moving around like that.

_Fuck, that's what I needed._

She sighed. Her hands went up to her face, brushing loose strands back.

Her legs were Jello-O and her spine spongey.

Jesus, that was so amazing, she didn't even care if he threw her out of the club at this point.

If he never touched her anus she'd be content.

This was one of her ultimate fantasies come true.

A man beneath her thighs, shivering and screaming as she exposed him to parts of his body he never even realized had power to transform his orgasms into something better—something harder and more brutally honest.

She sighed, slowly pulling her fingers out of him.

His body had tasted amazing, he smelled even better and the sounds of his screams was enough to make her almost squirt without her own G-spot stimulation.

Fuck, he was a great ride.

"You are such a good boy," she crooned, patting his shaking thighs and dismounting.

He shook with laughter, almost delirious. "I think you've got me hooked. My girlfriend's gonna kill me," he joked.

A lump the size of an anvil landed straight in her gut. Tears tugged at her eyes.

_Girlfriend? Of course he's taken, you idiot! Look at him and how hot he is._

She dug the scissors out of her bag, cut him free, removed the cock ring for him, put her clothes on in a flash, smoothed her skirt down and left without a word.

Emmett was dead to her, and so was his amazing ass and cock.

She was gone. Never to return to this hell and it's spawn. Fucker.

_I hate you more than ever!_

**A/N:**

**My rec with BDSM themes today is my all time favorite Twilight Fan Fic. It's Our Lives Unbound by theladyingrey42. Here's the link (remove spaces): www . Fanfiction s/6046442/1/Our-Lives-Unbound In this story, Edward becomes a male sub and struggles with his overwhelming speech issues due to a strong stutter. This man tore my heart out, and I wanted him so bad even if she painted him as skinny.**

**Thanks for reading!**

**Chanse**


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter 4**

"No, I don't have a girlfriend, I was joking," Emmett hissed in the phone.

"Well, go after her," Jasper said. "You were the idiot, teasing her in a fragile state like that. Fix it."

"I can't. I can barely walk. She milked my prostrate, and I had the best fucking orgasm ever. I'm telling you, she's a sexual genius. And I think this was her beginners course. I am so signing up to be her sub." Emmett's legs were cramping up.

"I'll call her; let her know we want her at the club." Jasper didn't sound very pleased about this.

"Can you call the other two ladies as well? I feel like she turned my spine to jelly. God, she's gifted. Fuck! I better visit the chiropractor. She's seriously talented," Emmett said, his voice nothing but a smile and kind of reminiscent of a powerful post-coitus glow.

"Maybe we need to offer her more?" Jasper asked.

"Yeah, definitely. Don't let her get away. I'm telling you, she's going to bring in male submissives like mad. Have her do a demonstration with me like what she did today—you know what," he paused, his mind jumbled, "watch the security tapes of this morning. See for yourself what she did. She administered the right amount of pain, pleasure, and taking hold of my will. She can teach like nothing I've ever seen before. She talked about a woman's threshold for pain and with babies, and shit, and how that translated over to bonding between a female submissive and her Dom. I thought she was insane, then she mentioned how a woman could connect with that pain and turn it positive, so as a femdom, she had the advantage. It sounds stupid when I say it, but dammit, she had me panting for more."

He unbuckled one of his own cock rings slowly. His goal was to try and get used to it so next time she put one on him, he'd be ready. It was rare he used them, since control and lasting as long as the woman needed, was never really an issue. But if he was going to be Rose's sub, it most likely would be.

He was soft now. Finally.

It seemed like he was never going to be flaccid again. Every time he thought of her, his body reacted.

Had he ever gone that long with a sustained erection? The whole damn night—he was lucky it didn't break something and that he lived through it.

His fingers explored around the areas both cock rings had encompassed. It was a little sensitive, but not swollen or chafed. Damn, she was incredible.

"Sounds like she's very unique," Jasper said.

"Man, I just came like an exploding missile, and I want more. I'm sure I'll be hard again within the hour when I think about what she did to me."

"Okay, okay, God, your grossing me out." Jasper laughed.

"Call me after you've talked her into coming back. I'll have her sign the papers and convince her for a second round." Emmett's smile seemed to be permanent. He never really knew how he fit into the BDSM world before.

He got bored over time, and the club seemed stale to him; same types of people, same routines, and he was unsure of how to fix those issues. Edward and Jasper never thought there was anything wrong since the revenue was good. It was one of the reasons he stopped coming to the club; too predictable.

Now that he thought about it—he probably never really was a Dom. It was something fun he tried on because his two buddies were Doms, but his joy came from helping others achieve their sexual peaks—see their fantasies turned into reality.

If a sub needed pain—he delivered it.

If they needed to be pushed—he did just that.

If they needed his body to get off—well, then by all means, he gave them every inch of himself to please them.

His pleasure was a direct result of theirs.

Rarely did he take solely what he wanted, and he wasn't so entrenched with the lifestyle that it bled over into his personal life like it did for both Edward and Jasper.

It was as if he had been searching for her.

And here she was—in his life now, and he wanted her.

Wanted to bow down to her, take whatever she meted out.

It burned him inside—ripped a fire through his belly that landed straight in his shaft.

Never before had he known with such surety what he needed.

Jasper laughed even harder. "You're forgetting she calls the shots. She already got off too, according to you, so she most likely won't be desperate for another orgasm. She's probably gonna just string you up by your balls and leave you there for me to find tomorrow."

"Probably." Emmett shrugged, and went after his clothes. "But it'd be worth it."

"Submissive Emmett . . . Hmmm . . . I never would have thought," Jasper mused.

"I never would have thought either, but it feels right. Get her." Emmett pulled on a pair of loose shorts, commando. Jeans sounded horrific being anywhere near his groin.

"Yes, sire, and you might want to work on sounding more meek and docile."

"I'll get right on that." Emmett ended the call, grabbed the snap-on black leather cock ring and slipped into his pocket. He might try it again later.

How could he get her to restrain him again? And how could he let her fulfill all of _her_ fantasies?

Another ripple of electricity rolled through his core at the idea of her really letting loose on him.

But how to do this? Shit, this was all so new. He couldn't command her and say, "Woman, use me, now!"

Or . . . Maybe he could . . .

.

.

.

"You wanna say that again?" Rose whispered.

"We'll include one free membership for a person of your choosing for up to a year, if you sign on as a trainer," Jasper said.

Her grip was slipping on the phone from the way her hand was shaking. "Did you see us this morning? Is that how this happened?"

"No, ma'am, we didn't see you there. But there is video footage we intend to review. Emmett will be your submissive until you're ready to train more. I figure you're a novice, and you need to be trained as well. Our members and patrons expect a professional level of—"

"Master Jasper, I won't let you down. I have an unorthodox way of being a Domme, but I assure you, the focus and care I have, will always be directed at my sub. My pleasure takes last priority."

"Already you're wrong. It's all about your pleasure in the act of training, in providing guidance. If you're so keyed up on their emotions, how are you supposed to correct them, to punish? You have to be passionate about it—and get pleasure out of it. Otherwise they'll know you're lost."

"I punish in my own way," she said, her jaw tense. "I don't use brute force; only as a last resort. My sub won't fear me, but will want to serve me out of respect, out of a mutual trust in knowing I'll always put them first. That's where I differ, and also where I outshine other female Dommes." It was wonderful to speak so blunt with him.

He probably hated every minute of it, but she didn't care.

If Emmett was to be hers, she'd find a way to get him exactly what he needed, including the things he didn't realize he needed, like today. He was unaware his prostate would make his orgasm so explosive and intense.

His high pitched whine and long drawn out moan, continued to haunt her after she left. Along with the look of utter adoration on his face.

And then he pissed on it all with news of a girlfriend.

Well, the first thing she would demand is to meet this girlfriend to make sure she was okay with him being a sub for her.

People were crazy. They made no sense, and even though Rose would never allow her boyfriend, if she had one, to intentionally, openly cheat, she couldn't stop his woman from doing it, or Emmett from condoning it.

Hopefully this woman would stay away from the club when she was doing scenes with him; that would simply be awkward. There would be no way for Rose to concentrate either; Emmett could get hurt.

Or worse—have a fantasy unfulfilled.

"I look forward to seeing you in action. Can you return to the club today? We need to get you signed on before the weekend. We want to announce you this Saturday night as the newest addition to our team. And just so you're aware, since we're taking a risk with you, we're cutting our new trainees down to seventy-five, and not taking any more new ones until the following quarter."

Oh piss it all to hell. The other Doms were really going to hate her now.

"O-okaaaay," she drawled. "You think I'm gonna be that much trouble?"

"I know you are. My balls are still throbbing from what you did to me last night. I'm not complaining though; it was worth it to see what you're capable of." Jasper laughed.

"I can be there in a half hour. Do I need to bring anything?" she asked.

"Just your claws. I'll provide the rest."

The line went dead, and she was smiling so big, her chest felt open and light as air. Nothing could compare to this sweetness.

Well, except Emmett falling apart with her hands inside him.

That moment would be damn hard to top as far as a virgin ass went.

He was stunning, his body sublime, and her only regret was she had never kissed him.

She'd remedy that the next time she saw him.

_Yeah, I'm sure his girlfriend will love that . . . Simply tell her—Nothing personal, sweetie, but he's got luscious lips I've just gotta taste._

She was officially insane, and jealous of some woman that was a stranger to her.

Emmett had the perfect lips; made for kissing. And that smile with those dimples—God. Unfair!

Training him would be interesting for sure. His genuine reactions were a constant tease. Yes, he should have displayed more respect for her, but it was new to him, so entirely forgivable. Not worth pointing out or punishing.

He had turned over after she'd loosed his wrists, so the opportunity was there for him to defy her and refuse being bound again. His decision was to continue on; trust her to do what she said she would.

Later that day, Rose left her place to go back to the club. She was thoroughly confused, but unable to stop herself. She needed this.

To hell with his clueless girlfriend. If he was hers, she would dictate how things would go and let him know who that cock belonged to.

Rose stepped back inside the club—the place unlocked—and immediately called out, "Hello? It's Rose. I'm here."

Emmett stepped out from the corridor, a smug grin plastered across his face. His dark hair was disheveled. He looked like he was being naughty in somebody's bed. Fuck, he was tasty!

Talk about a long lasting after-orgasm glow.

It was disarming how honest his expression was—it was nothing short of unadulterated gratitude. If anybody saw them, they'd think she'd saved his dad from a heart-attack or something.

"You look content," she commented.

He walked toward her without so much as a wince or limp. This man was tougher than she gave him credit for. She was told after she'd milked her last boyfriend's prostate, he was having trouble not looking like he'd gone horseback riding for hours the next day when he hobbled around. The bowed legs and tight jaw were something she wished she could've seen—the unimaginative prick.

"Wonder why that is. A sore asshole, burning cheeks; why, oh why, might I be happy?" Emmett stalked toward her, steps still steady.

Did he want more? Fuck! Her belly burned low and heavy.

"Because you lost control, and it was more than you ever anticipated, especially coming from little ol' me," she answered for him.

"No, that's not it."

She remained impassive, cool with her gaze and body language.

He knew she cared, so why the act? Oh, yeah . . . He was dangerous; might ruin this for her with his carefree nature. She took this shit serious.

"I'll see if you can figure it out as we go . . ." He smirked.

"Whatever, just let me sign the damn paperwork," she said, impatient with his games. His cryptic responses were doing nothing for her except make her teeth grind.

He waved her in the direction of the office.

Something about being in an enclosed space with him, made her clit tingle and her nipples tighten. Maybe it was the threat she could keep him there prisoner, tie him down to the desk and force him to come without even having an erection. That prostate was taunting her; asking for a challenge.

As she signed the final paper, she asked out of nowhere, "You ever come without an orgasm?"

"That's impossible," he scoffed.

"Wanna bet?"

"Yeah, I do. That's like saying I can get you to squirt without an orgasm."

"You can. I've done it. The G-spot can be juiced without having a full orgasm." He made a face, making her chuckle. "It doesn't hurt, Emmett. Nothing I do ever really hurts. I'm not really into pain, just control, as long as it helps my submissive get what they really need."

"Well, that's good to hear. So you're not going to light me on fire, pierce my foreskin or stab me with anything, drawing blood?"

"Not unless you want me to, but even then, I might say no. I don't like blood." She was a lawyer by profession and by heart, because mentally going for the jugular was more gratifying than actual physical blood.

He shook his head. "Nah, blood's not my thing either. A little pain, only if it heightens the pleasure, but that's the extent of it. Or if it's to teach something."

She smiled. "Good. Then we're on the same page. I worried you were in a different book altogether."

He sat down.

She prowled over to him, straddled his lap. "First, the ultimate test of trust. I'm going to kiss you, and you follow my lead. If you try to take over, I'll slap you wherever I choose."

He was obvious about how hard it made him, shifting around a little, as soon as she mentioned slapping him.

"Apparently you like pain more than you let on." She grinned.

"You gonna slap my cock to make it soft?" he asked, smirking.

"Not my style. I'll never punish your dick. It tells you what you need. It doesn't lie. I'm gonna listen to your cock a whole lot more than I'm gonna listen to any shit you spout out of your mouth," she explained.

Then she leaned forward, gently slid her lips over his.

He tasted so good. Smelled even better. All man—earthy: a hint of musk, oak and citrus. It was an intoxicating mixture.

His squirming had her heart pounding.

He wanted to shove his tongue into her mouth—she could feel it.

But he sat back in the chair, tucked his hands behind his head, and she grew so heated from his offer of subservience that she wound her fingers through the openings in his arms and laced her fingers through his.

She tugged at his hair and he moaned. Shit, that was sexy. Her eyes rolled up and her head wanted to tip back, but she refused to let it do that. She had to see the expressions on his face.

Those sounds were like shooting adrenaline straight from her gut and sinking it straight into her groin, making it heavier and slick.

And he sounded like she was yanking at his shaft, elongating it and pushing it to the limit.

"Somebody likes that," she cooed, then took his bottom lip in between hers and sucked lightly.

A slight shift of his hips, and then his eyes begged for more.

She let go of that succulent lip, and ran her tongue lightly over it.

His lips parted and he inhaled her breath, consuming more of her willpower.

He licked over the path of wetness she left behind.

"Delicious," he said.

"Quiet. I'll let you know when I want to hear your opinion," she said. He had to shut up, because he was turning her on so damn much, making it difficult to concentrate and be in control.

She tugged harder at his hair, forcing him to tip his head back.

Rose's teeth nipped at his jaw, bit at his ear, and she was rubbing herself all over his cock.

When his breathing was labored and he was making that high pitched whiny noise, signaling he was about to come, she kissed him again.

This time it was rough, deeper.

She slammed her ass down, landing straight on his cock, and he was close to hyperventilating, his eyes clenched closed while his face contorted into a mix of pain and pleasure.

"Shit! Shit, shit!" he growled.

He was no doubt sensitive from earlier, and she reveled in his reaction.

"I only want to hear you say that when I'm playing with your asshole; any other time you're overwhelmed, I want you to say, 'Mistress Rosie, please,' and I'll know you need to come."

He glared at her for a moment then she dug her hips in and ran her pelvis over his thick shaft in a dragging, pulling way.

He whimpered, "Mistress, please . . ."

"Yes? You forgot my name, but I _do_ want you to come, my big boy. You've let me kiss you, let me tease you, and now you deserve to release. Let it go."

He groaned so loud her pussy clenched in reaction.

Oh, my God! She never thought he could do it on command. Her eyes went wide as he grunted and his hips thrust into her. Then he made that noise she loved hearing.

That was the hottest dry hump in the history of man, and they didn't even do that much.

Fuck, he was going to ruin everything about her.

His moans grew hoarse and strangled. It was a cross between sheer defeat and absolute loss of control. Magnificent.

She smiled, kissed him softly, and sighed, releasing the tension in her stomach. Her fingers ran through his hair then tugged again. She rested her forehead on his; released her grip on him. Hopefully, he wouldn't see how bad her hands were shaking from a savage want of him.

He'd be pissed and ashamed in a minute when he realized he was bound to walk around now with a big wet spot on his crotch. He might lash out at her, and make sure to point out her trembling, weak fingers. A sign of an out-of-control Domme.

Well, big deal. They were both learning, and anyway, it was only the two of them.

"Hey, Rosie-cat, you here?" Alice called.

Emmett groaned. "Couldn't she wait a goddamn minute so we could finish up here?"

"We're done. Trust me . . . You need to rest before I push you really hard," she said, patting his shoulder. Her smile was probably going to bruise her cheeks and then her ego—they were both that big at this point. With how fulfilled she felt after two mini-sessions with him? God, she could never date a vanilla guy again. "That is one impressive cock, and I may just have to call you up every now and then to talk about what I want to do with it. Would that be okay with your girlfr—"

He opened his mouth to say something, but was cut off by Alice bursting in the door and grabbing Rose up in a hug.

She started yammering about how terrific it was they finally joined the club.

At some point when the women were talking, Emmett snuck out the door. Rose's heart sunk when she noticed he was missing, but did her best to hide her reaction.

Alice seemed oblivious as she gushed about how she'd finally get laid.

When Emmett returned in a full leather outfit several minutes later, Rose's breathing hitched. This was what Doms wore in the club, but fuck, she loved it on him! She allowed herself to give him a look of approval along with a warm smile.

Why was she gawking at his chest?

She saw it yesterday, so what was the big deal?

It was massive, well defined, and the leather made him look like something meaty and delicious. So satisfying to think she could have that—all of it.

He smirked.

Rose looked away.

Alice and she exited the room, and Rose gave her a full tour of the playroom she'd used; anything to distract herself from that man.

She chatted away about how she milked Emmett's prostate, and how loud and spectacular he came.

It was rude to talk about him like he wasn't there, since she knew he was following them around only a few feet away, within hearing distance, but there was this strange burning in her chest. Pride maybe? Excitement that a man finally let her use a few of her skills and talents? It fucked up her nerves to feel this calm inside—fear that she would lose it before she really got to do anything more, overwhelmed her in a sudden inexplicable rush. Why was she such a mess?

"It was the best orgasm I've ever induced, and he didn't fight it, not when he was so close. I was waiting for him to safeword, to call me names, but he didn't." Rose was out of breath, a slight smile playing on her lips.

"Wow. I can_ not_ wait! I want a sub now!" Alice said, her cheeks pinking.

"We'll get you one right away. There's a man out there for you, brave enough to unleash you and your wicked powers." Rose roamed about the room, running her fingertips across the equipment as she passed by.

Alice smiled, but it was far from bringing her eyes into the full emotion. "Yeah, but I'm to be trained, not a trainer. Which means who knows what."

"It'll all work out. I"m sure—" Rose was cut off by Emmett clearing his throat.

It made the women pause, but only for a moment. Rose went right back to assuring her friend.

"Emmett, fetch my bag, please. We wanna see the rest of the rooms, and I want to show you my swing after, at my place, if it's okay with your girlfriend." Rose turned her piercing gaze on him, and he almost jumped to attention.

He gently placed her purse on her shoulder, and he brushed his fingers through her hair as he helped move it out of the way of the strap.

She purred inside at the tender way he attended to her.

"Can't wait," he whispered, giving her chills down her back.

She acted aloof toward him as she and Alice went through all the specialty rooms, both of them growing more excited to try it all out in the near future.

As they were headed back to the lobby, getting ready to leave, Jasper joined them.

"Excuse me, Rosalie, but there are few more items of paperwork you need to go through." Jasper handed her a small stack. Her eyebrow rose in question. "You both need to go through these together. Lists so you can assess health, hard-limits, soft-limits and any requirements either of you have. You really shouldn't have been playing in the club without going through all of this thoroughly. It's irresponsible."

Emmett smirked at Rose's side, his head down as he stifled a laugh.

She glared at her supposed sub. He knew she was already fucking things up. He could have told her this himself. She had the urge to march Emmett straight back to a spanking bench and show him that he was to respect her. Instead, she swallowed her pride right along with the lump in her throat. "Oh, yes, so sorry. I forgot myself. It's easy to get distracted and carried away in this place." She smiled, but her soul wasn't in it. Her neck and chest heated with embarrassment.

"Not a problem. We're willing to overlook it since we're so thrilled to have you," Jasper said, his posture stiff. He glanced over at Alice, grimaced a little and turned around to go back to whatever it was he had been doing.

Rose shoved the papers in her bag.

"Looks like we have some work to do," Rose said, and gripped Emmett behind the elbow.

"_Work_? Work's no fun," he said, mocking a pout.

"It is when I'm involved." Rose smiled, but this time, it was obvious she was anticipating something wicked. "Bye, Alice. Maybe I'll see you here this weekend?"

"I wouldn't miss your scene." Alice jumped a little on her toes and her shoulders popped up then back down. "I still can't believe I get to be a member of a scene-club!" She waved and shoved her way out the front doors.

"You wanna do this here or at your place?" Emmett asked.

Rose turned so slow and icy, she could feel Emmett's eyes opening wide in that "Oh, shit! I'm in trouble," way.

"You are my beast. Not a pet, yet, because you have to be tamed first to earn that title. And until you know what I expect of you, it's best you not question me on anything."

"Mistress, did I—"

She stood back and appraised him. "A ball gag might be in order. I'm not especially keen on them, but once I know what you need and want, it might work better for you." Her eyes roamed up and down his body. "And I'm definitely going to need to get you restrained as soon as possible." She held out her hand. "Now, I'm going to ask you one question before we get to this paperwork. Do you really want to be my sub? I'm a demanding bitch."

He nodded, and squeaked, "Yes."

"Good. No more talking then until I say." She handed him the papers. "You'll carry these and start looking through them in my car. I want you to be honest on each answer, and if I find out you're lying, there's gonna be several moments there you're gonna wonder why you thought it was a good idea to try and sneak one by me." She took his hand, led him out the door and handed him the keys to her car. "Unlock it and help me get in."

He nodded, did as she asked, and once he had her secured inside, her door shut, he loped over to the passenger's side and got in.

The drive to her place was silent. It was exactly what she needed to get herself composed again.

Emmett thumbed through the papers, and she formulated in her mind how this was going to go. He was a tricky one; so lively and full of fun. But this was serious. Jasper was right. She had been reckless with Emmett already. Her stomach needed to get out of her feet and stop being sucked right down to the ground with her confidence. Would she get anything right in this new role?

She parked, took a deep breath and closed her eyes.

_Focus, Rosie-cat. You want this. You need to do what feels right for him and for you._

When she opened her eyes, she expected to find Emmett staring at her. But he sat, head bowed and his hands crossed in his lap.

Damn. But that was hot. A ripple of heat tore through her chest.

"I wish I was an experienced Domme already, then you wouldn't have to suffer through me fumbling around like this," she admitted.

He remained stone-like and silent.

"If I ever hurt you, I want to know right away. And that includes mentally, emotionally, and spiritually. I want to be here for you. I want to show you how much I want to protect you, and help you grow." She gripped the wheel tight then dropped her arms. "Okay." One more deep breath, and she told him to help her get out of the car.

He was out in a flash, at her side, assisting her as she exited her car.

"Can I have a moment?" he asked, head bowed but peeking up at her.

"How about a hug instead?" she offered. She took the papers and placed them back in her handbag.

His eyes were soft and full of longing. She leaned in, wrapped her arms around him and as he set his head on her shoulder and exhaled, her insides rushed with warmth and her stomach was getting closer to being back in place along with her ego.

"We can do this," he breathed.

"I know we can, too," she said, patted his back and slowly unwound herself from around his expansive chest.

He smiled and it was infectious, making her smile so big, she thought she might have to look away from him.

"C'mon, my beast," she said, extending her hand to him.

He took it and walked slightly behind her.

She doubled her steps; her insides going mushy at how he was trying to make up for the faux pas with Jasper. He probably didn't mean to embarrass her; Emmett was only having some fun. She needed to remember his personality was given to being lighthearted; not malicious.

Once at her front door to her home, she handed him the key without any directions.

He opened the door and waited. She cupped his jaw. "So sweet. You'll be my pet quicker than I originally thought."

His mouth crinkled into a smirk then smoothed out into a genuine proud smile. "Thank you, Mistress."

"You're welcome." She stepped inside and bade him follow.

He shut the door, after her non-verbal command and locked it.

"I need a drink. How about you? What would you like?"

"Nothing." He glanced around the room.

"You need to drink, even if it's plain water. We're going to be talking a lot." She hesitated at the edge of the hallway.

"Water then," he conceded.

"Give me a minute. I'm going to get out of these clothes and shoes. Why don't you take a seat on the couch? I'll be right back." Rose exited and rushed around her room, getting into something she could move around in better. Some stretchy nice yoga pants and a fitted tank top were her choice.

She rejoined him a few minutes later with two pens, his water and her wine in hand.

Emmett thanked her, barely took a sip and set it on the end-table.

"Let's get going, then, shall we?" She grabbed her purse off to the side, pulled the paperwork back out and handed him his set and a pen. The questions on her papers were pretty standard, but important nonetheless.

Ten minutes later, Emmett set his aside, signaling he was done.

She had only half of it completed. Was he rushing? Was he taking this serious?

Rose bit her tongue and decided to give him the benefit of the doubt. After all—he'd probably filled out this paperwork tons of times as a Dom in the club.

"Mistress?"

She continued writing, her eyes on her work. "Yes?"

"Can we not be so formal? It's making me nervous," he said.

Her pen stopped mid-word. She set it down in her lap. "What do you suggest?"

"Talking. You said we'd do a lot of it. Writing this stuff down is so sterile, and you're not going to get much out of me that way." He pointed at her papers in her lap. "I'm thinking yours is the opposite, but . . ." He shifted his weight forward. "It's about discovery."

"Okay. How about this—you lean back—lay down, even, and I'll go through the most pressing questions. You can answer me out loud, and I'll take notes later on what you say after you've left my place. I'll answer the same ones as well. How's that?"

He smiled and his chest rounded as he took a deep, relaxed breath. "But I can't see your reactions if I lie down."

"I don't want you to," she answered.

He looked confused with his brows squeezing together and his mouth slightly pursed. "No questioning your Domme. That's rule number one." She pointed for him to lie down.

He did, and when he was in place, and stiffer than a board, she got up, moved to his side with the papers in tow. She sat down on the plush carpet and gently pulled his arm away from his body.

"Close your eyes. Don't even think. Listen to my voice, feel my touch, and unravel your mind for me. That's all I want from you . . ." she cooed.

He wiggled his body back and forth a little to settle in and then followed all her instructions.

She set the top paper on the couch next to him so she could read off the questions while watching his facial expressions.

"Does my beast have any old sports injuries? Past broken bones, torn ligaments?"

"No."

She dragged her fingers up his inner arm and watched in fascination as goose bumps piled up on his skin. It was followed by her cooling breath, making them peak higher.

"Next question—contact lenses?"

"No." His breathing sped as she lightly scratched at the sensitive flesh of his inner arm.

"Diabetes? Asthma?"

He continued to say no with each question about his health she continued to ask him. The man was like a machine—never getting sick it seemed.

Her light teasing touches continued on his arm. His breathing was regulated, not spiking anymore. The flesh was desensitized.

"What does my beast prefer—whip or flogger?"

"Both."

Her eyebrow rose as she hummed. "Paddle or belt?"

"Both as well."

"Ropes or chains?" Her breath caught on that one. The vision of his ass in the air with his legs tied out of the way, assaulted her.

"Either."

"No preference."

"I don't have any boundaries. This is pointless."

She smirked and pinched along a beautiful vein running down his inner arm. "Lucky me. I've always wanted a man with no boundaries so I could hang bricks off his nuts while I pierce his scrotum."

He froze and his right eye popped open. "Whoa . . ."

"You said no boundaries." She grinned with a wicked glint in her eyes.

"I mean . . . Uh . . . I'm open to trying new things you might want to experiment with, but I . . . P-piercing my nuts?"

"No, I said, hanging bricks and piercing the scrotum. Maybe followed by a tattoo of my name on your asshole and a Prince Albert genital piercing to compliment it. Sound good?"

He pushed himself up to sitting. "Please tell me you're joking."

She laughed and patted his chest. "Of course I am. I only wanted to point out how ambiguous and untruthful your statement was." He began to protest, but she covered his mouth with her finger. "I'm not calling you a liar; just letting you know we both need to be specific and clear. There are a lot of things I want to try with you, but you could get hurt if you're not upfront with me."

He resisted her finger on his mouth at first, then she kissed his shoulder and his whole body unfurled into the cushions; his back at ease.

"Shirt off. We need to get you back to where you're letting your mind go." She watched as muscles were revealed; coarse chest hairs taunted her and a giving man went back to the position she requested.

It was all she needed—already. Her whole chest was light, bubbly and for the second time—being with him this way, felt right. All of it. She knew who she was, and was unafraid with him.

"I'm going to tell you a story—a little fantasy I have. I want you to imagine it with every detail I give you, and insert yourself into the story. Can you do that?" she asked, tone gentle, hands smoothing onto his chest.

"Yes." His eyes slid closed.

"Good boy. So obedient when you're not thinking and resisting what's foreign." She placed a gentle kiss on each nipple in turn and began her tale. "I want to be mugged. I walk down the street in my white stilettos, a white trench-coat that reaches mid-calf, and I keep my head down with my purse tucked into my side. It's sprinkling, but the rain won't stop me."

A serene expression crossed his face and a pleasant smile appeared.

She ignored the tremor and heat in her thighs; repositioning herself so she could knead his chest better.

"I hear footsteps behind me, but instead of speeding up my walk, I slow down. Maybe it's a man. Maybe it's a bad, bad man, that wants to hurt me and take my money."

His lips parted and a slight gasp passed through.

She pressed her hands over his heart and then ran her fingers up his neck, splaying them as she went. Her fingers encircled his throat. "He might choke me as he fucks me. And what could I do? Take it? Beg for mercy? What if I like it? What if I . . . Fuck, I think I do like it. I'm really wet thinking about it."

He whimpered low and deep in his chest.

"As I turn to see who it is, two men grab me and shove me against a wall. One of them presses hard into my side and snarls into my ear, 'Spread 'em, bitch!' What should I do? Should I cooperate?"

Emmett's head lolled to the side, but his expression was unreadable. Was this making him excited? Did danger, a little fear and pain, get him where he needed to be?

Rose scraped a thumb nail softly down his Adam's apple. "He has a knife. He opens my coat, and pulls the icy steel over my tight, hard nipple. I turn away, afraid to watch as it's dragged down my center and placed at the button of my skirt. I hear the button fly off with the flick of his wrist."

His heart sped up—his pulse raced. She could see it fly in that jugular of his.

She gripped his chest hard. "Oh, God. He's gonna—he's gonna shred my skirt and fuck me in front of anybody that passes by. And what will his accomplice do? Join in?"

Emmett swallowed and his fist tightened at his side.

"As the blade slices through my skirt, my thighs moisten. This is really happening. He's hard on my hip, and his breath is pounding into my neck. 'Yeah, I knew you were a cock-sucking whore; ready for me to rip my way inside you. I could tell with the way you were prancing around in those fucking heels—you were asking for me,' he says. I shiver as the blade swipes against my inner thigh, but there's just a scrape—no blood."

Emmett's hand loosened, but it was still tight.

He didn't like this at all. So, she switched the story into a new direction to test out her gut feeling on him. "At the last minute, I wrench myself to the side, knee him in the groin, punch him in the throat and scream for help." She ran her fingers down his belly, inspecting for a hint of being turned on, and was pleased to see he was finally responding. "When his friend tries to grab me, I slam him against a light pole and grab him by the nuts. He's even harder than the other guy was. When he begs me for mercy, I pull my skirt up and push him to his knees to make him service me. He shakes his head at first, so I grip his hair and yank his head back. The rain falls in his eyes, making him blink wildly. 'Suck my clit, fucker,' I growl. 'Or I'll end you, and your friend too.' He opens his mouth, and I push him forward, holding his head tight to my pussy. I come so hard, I nearly pass out."

Emmett moaned softly, but it was there.

"Open your eyes now," Rose said.

Emmett blinked hard and looked dazed.

"You were right—talking is good. That told me more than any fucking piece of paper ever could." She tucked her bottom lip into her teeth to keep from smiling so he wouldn't think she was making fun of him.

"I . . . God, that was intense and so brutal."

"Hmm," she hummed in agreement.

"And hot once you beat the shit out of them."

She nodded. _Exactly, my beast. You have needs, and I have a better idea what they are now. I can't wait to reward you._

"We'll take the next few days to share fantasies, concerns and ideas for our scene this weekend. Time to take you back to the club." She stood up, handed him his shirt and went to grab her shoes. When she returned, he was staring at her with a furrowed brow, troubled eyes, and lips parted.

"Can I ask which guy I was supposed to be in that fantasy?" he asked, his tone soft; respectful.

"I think you know . . . How did I taste?" She grinned.

**A/N:**

**If this story gets pulled by FF, and that's a big old if, I'll most likely put this story up on ArchiveofOurOwn. I'm not anticipating this creating a stir since I'm an unknown author with a smaller following than most. It seems like they go after the stories that have at least 1000 reviews or more.**

**Recommendation for this week: The Loving Dominant by John and Warren Libby. This man has been in the BDSM lifestyle as a Dom for over 30 years and shares his own and his friends, personal experiences of what it's really like. As you can tell—it's not fiction, but so spellbinding. I can't stop reading it! Libby, his wife and submissive, shares her perspective as well. Terrific read. So eye-opening, and I had to redo the whole last half of this chapter because of what I've learned already and due to my pre-readers' feedback as well.**

**Thank you to my new pre-readers: Paxson Adkins and Boo1414. Their input is so important to me, and I'm so grateful to have their help.**

**Just a reminder, still posting teasers the following day after I update on my facebook group, World of Play: Scarlett's Stories. Link, if you want to join us (remove spaces) www . Facebook #!/groups/157946840950900/**

**My submission for Catastrophia's Down, Maggie, Down contest if you feel so inclined to read and review. (Remove spaces) www . Fanfiction s/8745371/1/Window-Sills**

**That's it for now…**

**Glad you guys are enjoying it so far. That means a lot to me especially since I wrote this for myself and never planned to have it see the light of day. I also love hearing all of your great reactions to both Rose and Emmett. They're a fun pair! I just wanna sit and watch them play off each other for hours. And I could too, 'cause I wrote them. Hee hee!**

**Chanse**


	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter 5**

After several days of emailing, talking on the phone, and sharing information about each other, along with fantasies, it was time. Emmett was jumpy with excitement. She was finally letting him see her bedroom, and might let him play in her swing.

That seemed almost more personal than the sex they already had.

This was an opportunity to understand her better, to find out what her needs were.

Emmett knocked on her door, his palms sweating.

The door opened and Rose stood before him in a leather lace-up corset, and matching leather pants with laces along the entire length of the sides of her legs. She wore black five-inch stilettos.

His eyes slid closed and he clenched his teeth along with his butt cheeks.

She was giving him gooseflesh on his arms and legs already.

He opened his eyes and smiled. "You look . . . Nice."

"So do you. Get inside here and strip," she said, pointing to the ground at her side.

He entered her place as quickly as possible, and as soon as the door closed, he was naked.

He anticipated her telling him to get on his knees, but she didn't. Instead, she circled around him as he stood still, dragging one solitary finger around his chest, shoulders and back.

"Tell me . . . How do you keep in such great shape? 'Cause I could eat off those abs and chest. Although, I might accidentally bite you." She was breathing in his ear now, hot and humid and oh so sensual.

"I surf a lot, play . . . Oh gaaaaawd!" he suddenly groaned. She stepped behind him, slid her hands past his ass and now tickled her fingers along his scrotum.

"Hmmm? I can't hear you. What do you play? Don't tell me . . . You womanize; whore around, right? Well, that stops now. I want you faithful to me and your girlfriend only. When you're my sub, I have to know exactly where that cock is at all times, otherwise I'll put you in a belt."

Why did that sound so erotic? He hated chastity belts. They were painful and sweaty.

But when she said it, oh hell, he wanted nothing more than to push her buttons to see how far she'd go to control him and possess his straining cock.

This woman was fucking hotter than ever when she was pissed at him.

He remained silent, ignoring her demand about him being faithful at all times. It was probably a good time to come clean about being girlfriendless, but he couldn't bring himself to do it. It was fun provoking her.

"I have something to show you, aside from my swing. And no, you're not going to be allowed to come." She ran a languid lick up his trap to the dip behind his ear.

Rose stepped around him and strolled back to her bedroom.

She silently beckoned him to follow.

"By the way, for future reference—when I point at your shirt, it means I expect you to remove it. Even if we're out in public. Is that clear?" She opened the door wide to her bedroom.

He didn't answer. He was too busy ripping past the door jamb to get inside her sanctuary. His gaze went down, hoping she'd have no choice but to reward him.

She sauntered over to him, peppered his neck with open mouthed kisses as she pushed his head back to get better access. He was the perfect height for her mouth to reach his collar bone.

"How tall are you?" she asked.

"Six foot two, Mistress."

"Mmmm . . . perfect."

"I rarely get that compliment," he said, his tone flirty.

She smacked his rump playfully then squeezed hard. "You don't have to charm me. I'm already fixated with that delectable ass. Keep the coyness for your lady-friend at your place. Speaking of which," she hesitated, grimaced for a fraction of a second, "I need to meet her sometime so we can go over a few items. I'll make a list of the things I intend to do with you so she can approve or disagree with any of it. I don't want to get in the middle of you two."

He was about to protest and finally fess up, because the look she was giving him, had his guilt swallowing him whole. But it was impossible to speak while she nervously rambled on. He cleared his throat.

"I'm glad you have somebody in your life. It makes it easier for me to concentrate solely on what we're doing. It's less confusing, so don't break up with her while I'm your Domme, unless she does something severe to break your trust, of course."

He frowned. "You want me to have a girlfriend while we're fucking?"

"No. I want you to find balance and enjoy your life. Get your emotional support from her outside the club and have somebody to share your normal down-time with. I want to fulfill your fantasies, and explore your body with you, to teach you more about yourself. It's her job to keep you happy with the rest of your life." Rose's right eye was twitching. Her shoulders looked tense, inching up on her earrings.

Should he offer to massage them for her?

No, too intimate. Too personal. We're friends only, playing together. That's what she wants.

"Come with me now, please. I want to show you a toy so I can see how you react. It's one of my favorites, but you might have a strong reaction to it, so I figured best to get this out of the way."

He gulped.

What kind of toy was going to scare him? He'd seen them all, hadn't he?

She brought out the toy and showed it to him.

"It's beautiful, isn't it?"

He was mute. "What the hell is it?"

She scrunched her hand up like she wanted to smack his ass again, and probably the same cheek. It was starting to sting. "Be polite, or I'll show you exactly how it works."

His chest tightened. It looked like artwork.

"This is my glass spade. It's a butt plug." She handed it over to him.

It was much heavier than he anticipated.

His eyes went wide. This thing was huge!

"Honey, I've seen hundreds of butt plugs. _This_ is not going to fit anybody's ass. Especially not mine."

Her eyes dropped and she cupped it in her hands like it was a most treasured possession, now rejected in a way that was devastating.

It was eye-catching with a blue tip and browns swirling around the meatiest part of the spade, but still . . . That thing was not gonna find a home in his crack.

"What size is this?"

"Medium."

"No way!" he balked.

She sighed. "It's fine if you don't like it. We don't have to use it on you. I only wanted you to see what the possibilities were." Her eyes were filled with disappointment.

She sat down on the edge of her bed, her entire gaze on what lay in her hands.

His heart dropped and he swallowed. Shit. What was he supposed to do to make this right?

"Do you know what it's like to be called a freak by men, all because I want to touch them where no other woman would even consider? And . . ." She sighed, set aside the toy. "Never mind." She straightened her shoulders and her sad expression and looked him in the eyes. "It doesn't matter."

He dropped slowly to his knees before her, scooted up so he was slightly between her legs.

"It does matter. Tell me about it, please," he said, voice soft. He made sure to keep his hands to himself.

Her eyes were watery. "Why? I can already tell this isn't working. I don't know what I'm doing. I've obviously fooled myself into thinking I'm something I'm not. I'll call Jasper and tell him—"

"Mistress, noooo," he lilted. "Permission to touch you and speak my mind?" He gulped. It was hard to say those foreign words, but he was trying.

"Do whatever the hell you want," she said, barely moving. Her breathing was slow and almost nonexistent.

He ran his hands up her arms, over her shoulders and cupped her cheeks. "I know I've been giving you a hard time, but I don't mean anything by it. I'm just . . . It's stupid, but I like making people laugh and be at ease." _Especially you . . ._

"Exactly. That's why we won't work. I'm too intense for you." She stared at him expressionless.

That look of nothing, scared him, making his chest constrict. "No . . ." He shook his head in small motions. "No . . . Rosie. We're both new at this. We can work because we both have strengths that can complement each other."

"Such as?" She clicked her tongue at the end.

"Such as, I'm patient. Really patient, and forgiving. So if mistakes are made," she opened her mouth to protest, but he kept talking, "and they _will_ _be_ made—it's a given—I won't hold it against you. It won't ruin my trust, unless I feel like you're disregarding my boundaries and hard limits."

"I would never do that to you or anybody else," she said. She took a deep breath and her shoulders relaxed on the exhale.

He smiled and ran his thumbs over both cheek bones. "I didn't think you would."

Her eyes brightened.

"What I can't understand, and keep asking myself is, why such a wonderful woman could possibly be so sad?"

She looked distant and then her eyes shifted away. "I don't have a lot of friends, Emmett. I can tell that's never been a problem for you. You're so likable and easy-going. Do you think it was easy for me to feel like all the men I've ever dated were taking advantage of me because they thought I was hot? Not one of them gave a fuck about what I felt, what I liked, or how much I yearned to give something new to them. All I dreamed about was opening them up to experiences they'd never dreamed of. Why is that so wrong? I don't understand why that makes me a bad person."

He gently cupped her jaw and turned her head back to him. "It's not wrong. It's beautiful, and if you let me try, I can help you too."

"I don't know . . ."

"Let's call Jasper. Have him teach you the rules of how to be Domme since I can't seem to share that stuff with you, and I'll get some training on being a sub so we don't hurt each other's feelings as we go along," he offered.

"But we're supposed to scene this weekend. How are we supposed to do that if—"

"It'll be okay. Now, why don't we practice?" He grabbed the glass plug. "Why don't we start with trust first? I'm thinking maybe if you show me how you use this thing on yourself," her right eyebrow quirked, "then we can go from there."

"Sounds like you're putting me into the sub position," she said, smirking a little.

He smiled. She was back. That fire hadn't gone out completely.

"If you want to think of it that way—sure. The best Doms are the ones that can understand what it means to be a sub. I never really thought to do something like this when I was in the club, because . . . Well, I usually got the best subs, and they never caused me much trouble at all." He patted it while it rested in her hand. "So, whattaya say?"

She blinked and the weight of the plug with his added hand, made it sink into her lap.

"Okay." She shut her mouth and inhaled loudly through her nostrils.

"Can you tell me how you worked up to this monster?" He chuckled, but not too loud. He was afraid she'd think he was making fun of her, and that wasn't what he was doing at all.

"Well, I took it into the shower with a small and medium plug. I used a lot of lube, and graduated sizes, but I want to show you something amazing about it. Since it has a two inch diameter at the head . . ." she died off. He was looking pale. She plopped it on the bed. "Oh, sweetie, what's wrong?" She cupped his jaw, and looked into his eyes.

"You putting your fingers inside me and using a strap-on is one thing, but this thing . . . I'm sorry, I don't think I want that inside me." He stepped back.

It was wrong to be this defiant already, but she seemed fine with his reaction.

"I know it's new, that's why I wanted to show you this." Her eyes lit up and she flipped her shoes off, pulled up her skirt and laid down on the bed next to the plug. "Open the top drawer on my nightstand. There should be a flashlight in there." She sighed, smiling contentedly.

He opened it and of course multicolored sex toys and batteries were jostled about.

Some of them he was very familiar with, but a few caught his attention.

There was a particular one he was baffled by.

It was blue, thick and had a rounded base at one end and a dildo shape on the other. It was almost V shaped.

Was she bi? This looked like for two women to share and insert in themselves simultaneously.

He shut the door and joined her at the side of the bed.

When he looked at her exposed pussy, she had the plug inserted in her vagina.

"Shine the light through the base of the toy." She was breathless now with her legs pulled back; knees by her ears.

How many times had he restrained a sub to be in this position because they didn't want to be so openly exposed, and here this woman threw her legs back, with a toy inside her cunt and told him to stare at it. And with a light no less.

She was a wet-dream for every man. How on earth was she single and unattached?

He clicked the light on, did as she asked and was spellbound.

His mouth popped open. The vision before him was unbelievable.

Her insides were illuminated through the glass and it was like a three dimensional Georgia O'Keefe painting come to life. The brilliant colors were a little more muted now, blending in with her pink flesh.

He loved a woman's pussy; all of it. And here he was able to see further inside, unravel the mysteries of what she possessed—what hugged his cock so firmly.

It was hard to breathe or even think.

"What do you think? Isn't it beautiful? It's like a window into a person's heart and soul," she breathed.

He nodded, licked his lips and hunched over further.

When he couldn't get close enough, he dropped to his knees and actually licked the cool glass base.

Holy fuck. She was gorgeous inside and out, and he could kneel there all day and night, worshiping here.

"Perfect," he whispered in awe.

She barked a boisterous laugh. "No, that's my line for you. There's nothing perfect about me." She propped herself up to watch him as he continued to stare at her intimate insides. "I'll give you five more minutes because my legs are getting tired."

"'Kay," he said, not paying any attention at all to what she was saying.

"While you're there, I'm going to make good use of you." She propped her ankles on his shoulders.

It was fine. Closed her up a little more, but he could still see what he was transfixed by.

Every woman needed one of these. Every man needed to see this.

"You're a genius," he said, smiling and those dimples pitted deeply.

"Do you . . . Will you consider maybe someday letting me use it on your ass?" she asked, her voice muted and shaky. "It actually feels really good once it's in place."

"Honey, I'll let you do whatever the hell you want if you keep letting me look at this," he teased.

She laughed some more, and he pushed her limits, by holding her pelvis down while she was bouncing around.

He wanted her to lie still, dammit. His Dom training was kicking in. He wanted to strap her down, make her submit to him.

"I want to show you the swing still, if you have two more minutes," she said.

He bit his lip. His hand shook. It was instinctual to want to smack her inner thigh, turn it pink and make it sensitive.

But she was in charge, not him, so he fought the urge to take over and fuck her other available hole, glaring at him.

He gripped the bedspread with his freehand.

"Okay, times up," she said, attempting to sit up.

"No! Please, Mistress. A few more minutes?" he whined.

She laughed. "I knew you'd like it. Your enthusiasm is infectious, but there's more you need to see."

"I've seen sex swings before. I have _some_ experience, remember. Several years' worth." He smirked.

Her cheeks clenched. She pulled the plug out, set it aside and sat up.

Rose patted his head and smiled, but there was some dissatisfaction in her eyes.

He'd talked-back. Shit!

He braved himself for her to haul off and smack the shit out of him, but instead, she ran the back of one hand across his cheek.

"You will show your mistress proper respect. I don't care if you've fucked half the town in a swing. You haven't seen mine, or learned about how I want to use it. I was going to suck you off, but now you get nothing but a spanking while you're strung up in my swing. Tell your girlfriend all about what a cruel sadistic bitch your femdom is; I don't really care. But you will trust and obey me." she said, eyes blazing. Her voice was raised slightly, but she kept calm.

"Sorry, Mistress Rosie. I want to please you, but it's hard at times." He bowed his head, but he was smiling. It was unavoidable. He loved taunting her, seeing her fury and passion rise.

She was as beautiful as that plug—a thing to marvel at and behold.

"You better be smiling because you're looking forward to what I have in store for you," she warned.

"And what'll you do to me?" His breathing was ragged and he was hard.

"You love it when I smack you around," she stated. It was a fact, not a question.

"And when you lose control."

"I never lose control," she countered.

_Yes, you do._

His dimples pitted deeper. He already pushed her buttons, and planned to do it more.

The more worked up she was, the hotter he imagined the sex to be.

She took a breath. "Take those pants off, sit down on the edge of my bed. And if you're wearing underwear, those need to be removed as well. I'd prefer whenever you're around me, no underwear at all, but at home, well, do whatever you like." She moved into the closet.

It so happened he hated underwear and never wore them. He only owned a few pair for when he worked out at the gym or when he played football with some of his other, vanilla college buddies. Edward and Jasper were his true friends, but outside of the club, they actually had little in common.

Emmett sat on her bed, loving the freedom of nudity. At heart he was an exhibitionist. He was at ease in his body—being naked was a joy.

She'd have a hard time embarrassing or humiliating him at the club.

A fact he'd use to push her to the edge of her tolerance more.

Control was only worth having if she had to work really hard and suffer for it.

When she returned, she had a black ball of fabric.

"There's a step-stool in the kitchen leaning against the fridge. Go fetch it for me," she said.

He sauntered naked through her house and found it quickly.

When he returned, she had him set it up under a fire alarm attached to her ceiling in her bedroom.

He enjoyed the view up her skirt and of her tits jiggling about as she removed the faux front of the alarm to reveal an eye-bolt jutting out of the ceiling.

She deftly hung the swing and stepped back down the ladder.

Great idea. Genius really.

"Put the ladder in the hallway, please. We're gonna need lots of room to play in here so I can punish you appropriately," she said.

His groin tightened. _Please, spank me really hard!_

He admired her Esse on the opposite side of her rather large master bedroom. It was a deep plum color, and it was velvety looking. So smooth.

He always wanted one of those loungers in his home to enjoy. They were really comfortable.

His mouth watered, looking at it and imagining . . .

_Her hair would look amazing spread out on the large curve of that furniture while my dick is in her._

Now he was even more painfully engorged.

He'd find a way to get her to suck him off at least before he left.

Somehow he'd earn that.

Being a blunt, brave sub, he blurted, "Mistress, what can I do to earn back your pleasure so you'll relieve me before I'm dismissed to go? I know you won't fuck me, but I'm very hard and it's painful." His eyes simmered at her. Hopefully he was drawing her in, making her feel sorry for him.

Her level gaze was unreadable.

"Unless you plan to mop my kitchen, there's not much you can do. Now, get your ass up in the air. On your stomach in the swing. I'll let your lower half be free." She looked at the leg supports. "Your legs look long enough you can either brace them on the wall, or you can keep them on the ground. I'll let you decide," she offered. She pinched his ass, and he yelped. "You showered directly before coming over here, right?"

He nodded.

"Good."

She pinched him again.

When his head snapped in her direction, she was smiling.

God, she was radiant. It did something to his insides—made him forget about anything he wanted.

He smiled back.

A flush spread onto her chest and cheeks.

As soon as he was bent over, displayed, she kneaded her fingers into his ass.

He gasped . . . God, she had a firm grip of his flesh, but it was good. Really good.

She leaned over, ran her nipples up and down his crack.

His head dropped forward and his eyes slid up in his head.

"Hhhhhooooossssshhhhhit," he whispered.

Her hands massaged briskly, creating a nice friction that created warmth.

His whole backside tingled and pricked so much, goose bumps were starting to race down his hamstrings. His legs twitched and he had to fight off the urge to swivel himself around in the swing and snatch at her.

"So good. Such a good beast—staying still for me. You make your mistress so happy," she purred.

He stretched up on his toes, like a cat, trying to get closer to the source of attention and affection.

And then . . . _whaaack!_

"How many?" she asked.

"Sssffff," he sucked in a tight pocket of air and stiffened.

"How many for your punishment? Hmm . . .?" She leaned over him, stroked up his back and kissed, sucked and nipped at his ass.

His neck strained as he pushed it back. He closed his eyes.

"Three? Four? Five? How many should my beast take?" Her tongue drifted up and down his cleft.

"Ooohhhh God," he moaned as the tip of her tongue circled at his puckered hole.

When she pulled back, he whimpered, until her fingers probed gently.

"Such a tight ass. Do you know how much I love that?" Her voice was soft.

Those incredible fingers traced up to the small of his back then disappeared.

_Whack, whack!_

Again and again, jolting him.

"Oooohhh yes, Mistressss," he groaned.

_Stop begging!_

_But, fuck, it's good!_

_I don't care. Doms don't act like this!_

_I'm not a Dom. I'm a sub. Her submissive._

His ass arched toward her.

_Thwaaaack!_

Oh, harder . . .

He grunted when she gently caressed the burning tissues.

And God, the way she bent over, her nipples tickling his back as she kissed him tenderly everywhere; his eyes rolled up in his head.

"So good, Emmett. You make me proud already, the way you . . . God . . ." she trailed off.

She reached around, gripped his cock, probably to see how aroused he was.

Goddammit! He was harder than that glass plug. How could she not know based off his ragged breathing and his trembling ass?

All of a sudden, she crawled up on top of him.

The swing groaned and creaked as it tried to sway about.

Emmett's reflex was to crouch a little and brace it, forcing it to remain immobile.

What was she doing on his back?

It hurt like a son of a bitch to have her abrasively scraping his raw ass, but at the same time, he'd never been so turned on his life.

She was unpredictable; unexpected.

Everything was new with her.

And he'd seen a lot of crazy stuff in the club.

She wrapped her legs under his armpits, facing away from his head, somehow, and then she curved around his ass.

Her fingers spread his cheeks apart, eliciting a slight burning at the top of the crack.

"Ow!" he blurted.

"Shhh . . . It'll pass. Be patient. I want to taste you some more," she said.

Her tongue followed along his crack, just like before, but this time, she used a broader, flatter stroke, wetting a larger portion of the area. She sighed with a sound of sheer hunger when she got to his anus.

Her tongue slicked him up, and pushed more and more with each whimper he gave.

She bit at the curves of his inner cheeks, sucked at the corners, and continued to assault him with her tongue.

He was about to explode with or without any friction and regardless of her permission being granted.

The second her fingers entered him, his body cinched down and he screamed with a shuttering breath as his cock let loose.

He came so hard and so long, his voice was nothing but a feral shrill whine.

She sat up and rubbed her wet, swollen vulva all over his upper back.

It was the raunchiest thing he ever experienced from start to finish and he reveled in it. All of it.

It was perfect. Hell, _she_ was perfect.

Every cell in his body was full, bursting with energy.

He would never second-guess her or deny her anything. He might razz her, because it was his nature to do that, but that was the extent of what he'd do.

She was a goddess.

Frustrated and even more pent up, she sighed, "Your homework, my beast, is to find a butt plug you'll feel comfortable using regularly. I want you to wear it at least an hour a day as you're moving about. Sitting still with it in while you touch yourself does not count."

"What about when I'm fucking my girlfriend?" he asked, baiting her.

She froze and then cringed. "Only if she'll let you use one on her too. Practice makes perfect. And at some point I may want you to put your beast in my ass." She clenched her jaw. "You can go now. I'll see you Friday night. We'll work on coming up with a scene for Saturday that's doable for us both."

"What's to plan? Show those assholes there how to milk my prostate," he said.

Her eyes went wide for a second.

"Okay." She caressed in long lazy strokes down his ass and thighs. He knew it radiated heat from her smacking, and was probably a nice pink color.

She licked it once, and it absorbed the warmth. Then she blew cool air across it to ease the fire.

He sighed.

She climbed off him, patted his lower back to signal it was time to get down.

The swing cricked as his weight released the spring.

"I always wanted to use this swing. And now that I have, well, it's . . ." She looked at it with longing and sadness.

"Hey . . ." His brow furrowed. Shit. He said something dumb about a girlfriend again.

What the hell was he doing?

"Bye, Emmett," she said cooly.

She set up the ladder and began disassembling the swing.

His face fell.

She was kicking him out.

"Aren't you supposed to coddle me after you beat the shit out of me?" he pointed out.

"Oh, I . . . yeah. Sorry, still new to this," she said.

He could see her mentally retreating and beating herself up over what he'd just mentioned.

"Where do you want to do it?" he asked.

She pointed at the bed, her finger shaking.

He smiled, but small enough it was unnoticeable.

She put the swing away in the closet and when she returned he was snuggled up in her blankets.

It was a warm day, but his skin was cooling now after her sensual treatment of it.

"Warm me up," he called out to her.

"Dammit. I forgot to get the numbing cream for your skin. I hadn't really planned to spank you today. Sorry," she mumbled. She paused. "Do you need some ice for your backside?" Her voice sounded filled with vulnerability, like she was about to break down and cry.

He reached out for her.

"Come here. I won't bite, Rosie," he said. "We need this."

Why was she still standing over there all hesitant?

She slinked over to the opposite side of the bed, clamored in and nuzzled into his chest.

He wrapped his arms around _her_. It was supposed to go the other way, but this was fine.

She was supposed to give him comfort. But right now, this was harder for her than him. He remembered the first few times he punished somebody. It about tore him to shreds to do it, and afterward? He wanted to crash emotionally from it.

"You did real good, Mistress. I really enjoyed it. You pack a mean wallop," he said, chuckling.

"Emmett?"

"Mmm?" he hummed then yawned. He was staying put for a while. This bed was comfortable, and she was even better.

She pulled him in tighter, tucking her head up under his chin.

"Did I hurt you? I mean, are you mad at me?" She hesitated, then added, "I'm sure you probably hate me and were only humoring me so you didn't hurt my feelings. That's what nice guys do. It's happened to me before. And you're most definitely a nice guy."

"No, baby. I can take much more than that, and if you want to beat me to a pulp, I'm happy to be your punching bag." Again, another chuckle. Her sweetness warmed his soul. "And I keep trying to tell you—I don't have a girlfriend. There's only my mistress that touches me." He sighed, and she gripped even tighter.

"Fuck . . ." She sighed. "You're trying to kill me."

He laughed. "Nope. That's your job with me, and you're doing an excellent job so far." He kissed the top of her head. So safe with her, here in this bed.

He'd never felt better or more right in this skin of his.

**A/N:**

**Bella and Edward will be making an appearance in the next chapter, but I warn you, Edward's a little rough around the edges in this fic. He's nothing like the tender-hearted Edward's I've written in the past. He has his reasons, and he'll thaw as Bella grows on him.**

**We'd love to have you join us on facebook. (Remove spaces) www . Facebook #!/groups/157946840950900/**

**Recommendation for this week for another published series: Club Shadowlands by Cherise Sinclair. Book 4, 5, and 6 really rocked my world. Book 4 is really great, and the Dom in that one's name is Cullen. And Andrea, the woman he's dealing with—I simply love her spirit! She's not a waif either, and I love that about her. I'm pretty sure based on how Cherise wrote him and his name, she's a Twi-fan. But I have no proof—just a hunch deep down in my panties.**

**She's fun to tweet with too. Cherise is very personable and is good friends with the last author I rec'd a few chapters back, Kallypso Masters.**

**Thank you to my pre-readers. They're wonderful with their feedback!**

**Chanse**


	6. Chapter 6

**Chapter 6**

Edward Cullen drove up to the restaurant, wishing he wasn't so nice and had refused this invitation.

That was his problem. Always had been—too nice.

People walked all over him most of his life, and he was done with that.

Tonight his friends talked him into joining them for their night out.

What was he doing here? Jasper was going to talk to the new sub, Alice, about her options. Emmett was going to go over his first scene with Rose.

Everyone had a purpose tonight for this gathering except him.

He could smell a blind date a mile away, and this was precisely what they were trying to pull, because those two troublesome women were bringing their friend, Bella.

He already had a sub. What was the damn point?

He trained submissives—that was his role—but there was a line to walk as a professional Dominant male. Women wanted to force a relationship with him outside of Just an Hour's structure. Why did they think he was interested?

And he never took on more than one sub like Jasper did. He liked to keep his attention focused so he would avoid making mistakes.

There weren't many men outsides of sadists, willing to do whatever a woman wanted in regards to pain.

Even Jasper had limits. He would use a whip, but if they asked for harder, begging for bloodshed, he'd turn them down.

Edward pushed his glasses up. He'd barely gotten off work; didn't have time to go home and put his colored contacts in.

At the club he wore his blue ones. It made him feel like something else entirely. It took him outside himself.

And he could concentrate—unleash.

Edward strode through the doors of the restaurant, an expensive one Jasper picked out.

"Oh, God!" he groaned when he saw them all seated at a cozy booth in the corner, overlooking the beach at night.

Serene, tranquil and utter bullshit.

Rose had asked for one more free membership for a friend, and was granted it.

Bella was unattached, and Rose was trying to get her friend to use her free membership to the club.

According to Emmett, this plain brunette was reluctant to step foot inside, and Edward had no time for timid mousy women unable to make up their minds.

The hostess tried to stop him for a second, but he strolled right past her and gave a stern reprimanding look.

She heeled right away.

Edward sat next to Jasper, the least irritating of the people at the table.

He took hold of the menu and within a few seconds, knew exactly what he was going to order. When he glanced up, Bella's gaze went down to her hands folded in her lap.

He set the menu down and stared in disbelief at these people around the table, looking every person in the eye. Were they seriously thinking he'd be attracted to her? She couldn't even look him in the eyes, for fuck's sake.

And he had given her nothing more than an impassive, fleeting look. What would she do if he breathed on her? Piss herself?

She was supposedly a Domme herself, but there was no way she'd command anything moving with testicles.

Bella got up and excused herself so she could visit the ladies room.

He'd already made her uncomfortable?

Well, that little girl needed a spine, and a brain to attach to it might be useful as well.

Rose grabbed her friend's wrist at the last moment and began introductions, "Edward, this is my dear friend, Bella Swan."

What an unoriginal name for an unoriginal girl.

Edward smiled and his eyes went straight to her blouse.

She was a petite little thing with a nice, ample pair, but it wasn't enough to interest him.

He knew her size in an instant. Wore a size eight in clothes, thirty-two DD breasts, and the flattest stomach in a woman he'd seen without muscle definition, because he could tell she wasn't a gym fanatic. She was soft and feminine and her legs . . . very curvy.

She'd make a nice docile trophy-wife someday to a vanilla Joe-Blow.

She radiated a sensual innocence, though, similar to Marilyn Monroe, but the light brown eyes . . .

Hmm . . . They carried a little mischief.

Still—uninterested. She'd have to be trained from absolute scratch, and he didn't have time right now.

"Hi," Bella's high pitched, soft, unassuming voice answered. She glanced down again and shuffled her feet a little.

Rose let go of her wrist, and smiled, approvingly.

Bella looked at him for a moment. He threw her a dark look, and she gulped, then once again, looked away. With a stare he was practically bringing her to her knees. If he barked at her, she would probably go get him a collar and leash, then have him put it on her.

Jesus. He'd had shy ones before, but this? This was something else.

A nice challenge for one of the other trainers—_not_ him.

"Hi there," Edward said in his cool, disinterested tone.

What would she do if he actually touched her?

He smiled; took her hand and kissed it. Her face went deep crimson in an instant.

He patted the back of her hand and let go with a pleased grin.

She was pretty with that heart shaped face, but she was so innocent. He could sense her lack of experience, and Edward's mind was already wandering in other more interesting places—back to his last sub. She got his imaginative juices going. Too bad she had to move out of state.

She turned to go, and his dark eyes followed her for a moment.

When she was gone, he scowled. "I'm not interested. So knock it off. I'm not about to get involved with her," he said, beating them to the conversation he could see, ripe and juicy on their tongues. That was his way—straightforward. It was respectful, because he hated wasting time more than anything. And _this_—this was going to be a waste of all their time if they thought they were setting him up with that woman. "Should I go ahead and leave now—save face for that little unassuming girl?"

He peered around.

Jasper spoke up, "Edward, stop with the 'I'm staring you down, little Missy!' look. This isn't us ganging up on you with our own agenda or anything like that. Rose introduced you two specifically because you were the last one to arrive and the rest of us met her before you got here."

Jasper smiled, but it was a cross between a glare and humoring his friend.

"If you want to leave then go ahead. We figured we could toss out some ideas about the club, upcoming scenes and training. And since you're in charge as the head-trainer . . . well, you know." Emmett smiled. He was always in a good mood now since he had Rose telling him what to do.

Edward didn't understand their relationship at all.

It pissed him off at times that Emmett was bowing down to her. His friend was a Dom, not a sub.

"I apologize if I offended anybody." Edward's eyes were soft, setting off the green of his irises and making them sparkle. His face was usually harsh and exacting when he went into Dom mode, but today, he appeared less intimidating because he was clean shaven and donning his glasses. He found it humorous that Bella all but ran away from him like he was an ogre about to cane her. She hadn't even seen him anywhere near the persona he took on in the club. It'd probably give the poor thing nightmares.

He rubbed at his jaw. At the club he always wore stubble, for particular reasons he chose to keep to himself.

He pushed his glasses back up and the second the waitress was at their table, he ordered for himself.

Bella wasn't back yet, so he took the liberty of ordering for her too.

If they wanted him to extend some courtesy to their little friend, then he'd do it.

Rose's face dropped in shock. She tried to stop him at one point and order what she figured her friend would want, but Edward stomped right over her.

He ignored Rose's glares at him. It was fine.

Bella would figure out what happened and forgive her friend for not defending her, while away.

Somebody that shy, was sure to be quick to let things slide.

When Bella rejoined the group, most of them were laughing and talking about the new toy shipment coming in tomorrow.

Rose chirped about how there was a special butt plug that was a prostate massager she was going to use on Emmett.

She kept telling him he needed to wear a butt plug at least three times a week, but he explained he rarely wore them because they chafed his generous-sized balls.

Edward kept his mouth shut and fought off the urge to roll his eyes and throw cutlery at them.

Bella went to sit down, but grew pale when she discovered her spot had been moved.

She was going to have to sit next to Edward now.

Her face smoothed as she sat with grace.

The waitress walked by, and Bella blurted, "Excuse me! I don't want this salad. Please take it back. I'll take the soup."

Edward stared at her in disbelief then his features morphed into amusement.

She was more interesting than he gave her credit for.

What woman didn't eat salad? And one her size probably lived on nothing but greens and berries like she lived in the woods.

He was trying to keep from offending her when he'd ordered it for her.

The waitress took the plate of food and left.

Bella kept her eyes downcast on the table.

She spoke up. Good for her.

But now Edward was studying her; trying to figure out who she was. He quietly drummed his fingers on the table, making sure it was in her field of vision.

A few minutes later, and the soup was placed before her.

Bella ate it with gusto, unafraid to show her ravenous appetite.

Edward's lips quirked up into a lopsided grin.

Hmmm . . . Food fetishes maybe? Oh, he could play with that.

"I ordered you a rice pilaf with sea bass and peas," Edward said.

She grimaced. "I hate fish," she said so quietly he almost missed it.

"And what should I have ordered for you? Can your tiny stomach hold anything more than the food that would fit in my palm?" He flipped his hand over, laid it palm up in front of her on the table.

She swallowed her spoonful of soup and looked a little nervous as she gazed at his hand. She was probably thinking they looked too powerful and strict for her tastes.

He kept his nails clean and well trimmed, but there was a roughness about them, showing he would work hard and use physical exertion anywhere it was required.

"I'm a simple steak-and-potatoes girl. And if I eat salad, I choose blue cheese," she said, "not Italian."

He chuckled. The fattiest dressing possible?

She must work out more than he thought to keep her stomach so concave. Maybe she was a runner?

Her tight skirt stretched from hip to hip-bone, and showcased how flat her abs were.

His eyes roamed over her body and a flash of lust flickered in his eyes.

She must've caught it, because she flushed. He hadn't even realized she was gazing back, because he was working so hard to figure her out.

How many subs had he trained over the last year? How many pussies had he pounded each weekend?

Too many to count, and none of them colored like she did over such tiny insignificant things.

"A regular carnivore, huh?" he questioned.

"I eat meat, yes," she said, and cleared her throat.

"And I love a woman that wraps her lips directly over a good piece of meat and appreciates it with a savoring tongue," Edward lilted.

Bella squirmed a little then went back to her soup.

He smirked, leaned back in his chair and ogled her freely. She was kind of fun to rile up.

Not many women made him want to act up, but she did.

"I have a good bite," she said, demonstrating it by biting into the hunk of thick crusty bread on his plate.

She tore into his bread? Was she insane?

Woman needed to learn her place.

He grabbed her soup, and in a tip and slurp, ate it all within a few seconds.

The minestrones broth ran down the corners of his mouth, and onto his neck.

While he was busy doing that, she took the opportunity to eat the rest of his bread.

They were in a silent battle of wills.

"Good soup," he said.

"The bread's better," she quipped.

He barked a laugh and then put his arm around the back of the booth behind her, in a familiar, comfortable gesture.

Rose stared at them with her brow furrowed.

Yes, he put his arm there. Did it fucking matter? It wasn't an offer of marriage, it was a place to rest a limb. He smirked at Rose.

They wanted him to be nice, right? This was his version of nice in these fucked up circumstances.

"You'll have to forgive Edward. He's standoffish on his best day," Jasper told Bella.

Edward ignored him and kept his eyes zeroed in on Bella. How long 'til she cracked?

He was betting ten minutes, tops.

When the food arrived, Bella ordered steak and potatoes, just as she'd said she preferred, then handed Edward the plate of food he'd ordered for her.

"Since you enjoyed the soup so much, perhaps you'll like this too?" she offered.

His stomach folded in on itself, feeling like it was ready to explode in a rage, then the strangest thing happened.

The anger died as quickly as it came.

He laughed. A booming, wild, full body roll-me-over-'cause-I'm-dyin' laugh. This little girl was bizarre, and had no sense of self-preservation. Didn't she realize she was toying with a Dom?

Rose gaped; her mouth wide open.

Emmett was a step behind—his eyes wide and his brow collapsed.

"Get them a bed quick. They're both fucked," Emmett whispered in Rose's ear.

She smacked his arm but smiled all the while. "I doubt Edward will wait for a bed to be at his disposal."

Edward shot them a look of warning.

Alice cleared her throat.

"Bella, why don't you come to the club tomorrow. See what you think. Nobody else will be there. I'll let you in," Edward suggested.

Was it crowds that unnerved her?

"I . . . no thanks," she responded.

He turned his whole body to the side so he was facing her completely. Edward gave her that _don't you dare oppose me _look.

The damn imp gave it right back.

"I said come," he barked, low and raspy. "I'll be on my best behavior."

"And I said, a man that eats my soup without asking and orders me fishy food, is already on my hit-list. No thank you." Bella smiled and her soft eyes suddenly pulled at him from his very core. They were so alluring he forgot what they were saying.

"Maybe another time?" Rose spoke-up for her friend.

"I don't think so," Bella replied. "I have no interest in going there."

Rose's face fell. "Come on—how long's it been since your breakup?"

Bella ducked her head. "Not talking about that . . ."

"She'll come," Edward said.

Bella flinched and frowned.

_Oh, dear woman, stop fighting your natural inclinations . . ._

"Tell me what we can do to entice you," Edward said. "Privacy is ensured. No one will ever know you stopped by during non-business hours."

"Nothing—there's nothing you can do to get me there." Bella wiped her mouth with a napkin with those dainty fingers he could crush with ease.

He gripped her hand, and tossed her napkin down on her plate.

"When fear seizes a person, they never fully recover unless somebody they trust helps them through it," Edward said. "I'm offering you freedom—a chance to stop being afraid."

"Afraid of what?" Her jaw tensed.

"Yourself."

Bella looked straight in his eyes for more than a few seconds, for the first time that evening. "Is that some sort of philosophy you tell your subs so they'll let you beat them senseless?"

He stopped breathing. The little bitch was begging for a good flogging without the complimentary fucking after.

Edward squeezed her fingers gently, let go, then said, "Not really. I tell them, 'Say when.' But they never do, because they want more of whatever I can give them. But for you—I figured you needed a firm hand to lead you where you want to go. I don't know that I'd let you lead until something changed with you, because you sure as fuck have no idea what you want, or where you want to go with your life." Edward shrugged then removed his glasses so he could rub his eyes for a moment. "When you're ready to play with the grownups, you give us a call." He put his glasses back on.

Her lips trembled, but she remained silent and stoic at his side.

He pulled out his wallet, threw down a hundred-dollar bill to pay for her meal and his. "This is for your soup and your . . . well, whatever you call this." He gestured between them. He'd be damned if he was going to call it a friendship. Maybe strangers that started to respect each other, but that was already decimated. At this point, he'd call it two people that knew each other's names, and that was it.

He flicked his wrist to get her to move so he could get out. She flinched at his small movement.

"Goodnight ladies." He turned to Jasper. "I'll call ya later to discuss the shipment."

Jasper and Emmett said bye to him as she slipped out of the booth. Edward left, cursing that little brown-haired girl with an attitude.

.

.

.

After Edward left, Bella gulped down the rest of her drink and wiggled around.

She was wet, embarrassed and hiding her head as best she could by tucking it down to her chin.

Could she disappear into the beach's night air?

She was a mess. Edward knew it.

Everybody at the table knew it, though they were polite enough to keep silent on the matter.

She was a coward—hiding half the time in the bathroom. Visions of her breakup from less than a month ago with her boyfriend, Doug, haunted her. He'd spat at her, calling her a whore, and told her no man would ever want her, because she was a deviant bitch.

She went to church the next day, to find answers, but none came.

Maybe he was right. Maybe she was deviant, and with no hope of ever being normal.

She didn't belong anywhere. Not in the normal dating world, and most definitely not in the BDSM world either. They were too hard core for her. Her needs were simple—or so she thought, but Doug had said the opposite—that she was too high maintenance.

She set her palm on the spot where Edward's ass had been. It was warm, and though she was relieved he would no longer be able to call her out on her shit, she kind of wished he'd come back.

There was something refreshing about not having to hide who she was. It scared and excited her in equal measure.

His Dominating presence also kept the attention off her when she said and did stupid things—which was all the time.

Bella glanced at the money he left behind.

She cringed. _A prostitute. I'm a whore. He paid for my meal like he used me._

Her spine shivered involuntarily and her legs slid close together. She was sickened by herself.

_Stupid secretary with a tight sweater and skirt. What did you expect? Isn't that how you caught Doug's attention too? Showing off the few assets you have?_

She fingered the cross necklace at her throat.

When the party started to disband, she snuck out and blended in with everything around her.

If she could keep focused elsewhere she might be okay.

"Night, Bella. So glad you were able to make it," Rose called as Bella was about to step into the parking lot.

She jumped a little and with a skittish look, waved with her hand low and tight to her body.

When the door was open, she ran to her car, and almost tripped when she heard a growl, "Get in the car, little girl. Now!"

Edward was parked near hers. His passenger door was open.

"I . . . Why should I?" Her shoulders straightened, she tried to puff out her chest to look bigger, fiercer.

He laughed. "I'm not gonna touch ya." He patted the passenger's seat. "You need help. And though I'll most likely regret it, I'm gonna give it to you."

He smiled and her tits felt heavy as her nipples tightened.

"Look—there's no way I would've been able to sleep with this unfinished. I'm sorry if I was coming across rude at dinner. But I can see straight through you—you want this. You're searching for who you are. That's what I do. I help women find themselves in whatever way I can."

Her head dropped. She blinked, bit her lip and toed the asphalt then looked up through her lashes.

"You won't hurt me? I don't do pain . . ."

He nodded. "You're mistaken if you think I hold all the power here. That's the sub—she controls all of it. I can't do a damned thing without your say-so." He pointed at the seat like this was not up for debate. "Sit. Now."

"Why?" Her voice shook. She waited for him to yell, call her names, or even look at her with disapproval.

That was her life with men. She let them down without meaning to. It was difficult—figuring out what she was repeatedly doing wrong.

"Because. You. Want. To," he said in a slow, measured way. His eyes were filled with patience and . . . _hope_?

"You really want to spend time with me?"

"I do." He nodded; ran his hand over the seat in a way that made her thighs tingle.

She smoothed her hands down the front of her skirt. Did she look okay? "Do you even like me at all?"

"Yes. You're . . . Interesting."

She felt a smile coming on. "Like an experiment?"

"No. Like a woman that's at the beginning of a journey but missing the map. I'm not one of those assholes that drives around in circles without an idea of where he's going. I stopped and asked for directions years ago, sweetheart." She smiled, because when he used that endearment, it wasn't said in a derogatory way. He said it like he really did think her worth his time. In the next breath, he whistled high-pitched through his teeth with a sharp gust, in a way that meant she needed to stop fucking around and get in. Her gut tightened. He motioned with a jerk of his head toward the seat. "I'll wait all night if that's what it takes. I don't give up easily."

"I can see that." She gripped the door. "How long are you going to give me?"

"As long as it takes."

"I'm not your sub," she clarified.

"I know that. I already have one of those. We're gonna talk, and nothing more. That's what people do when they're trying to get acquainted, right?"

"I suppose . . ." She slid into the seat, and shut the door.

It smelled like him, only more intense since it was an enclosed space. Faint hint of leather, coarse, fresh-cut wood like cedar, and sensuality covered in chocolate sin.

Her hands were unsteady as she tried to buckle herself in.

"Let me do that," he said, taking the strap from her and clicking it in place.

"I _can_ do some things on my own," she said, mocking a glare.

"But why would you want to, when I'm here to do it for you? Ever heard of chivalry?" He smirked and stayed leaning really close to her.

"Ever heard of personal space? I can barely breathe when you're this close," she said.

He chuckled and leaned in closer. "Why? I'm not kissing you. I'm not touching you. This is my car, my rules. And I think you need to give up control to find what you want." His fingers brushed her outer thigh. "Nothing clears the mind and brings clarity better than—"

"_What_? Don't tell me—a good rough fuck?" She scowled.

"No, but those are nice too." His hand drifted down to her knee. He set his palm at the edge of her seat, not touching, but less than an inch away from her hem. Her eyes chased his hand down, and her breath hitched.

"Then what?" she struggled to say.

"Being immobilized. When you can't move, you can't do what you want. You find peace after the chaos settles, and your mind tells you only the bare essentials—the things you need to know. Give me a rope; I'll have you on top of a fucking cloud. And afterward, you'll be singing about who you are, what you need and want, and how to get it."

She blinked and shifted her legs away from his hand. "Is that so?"

"So true, you'll wonder why you waited even one damn minute more."

"I don't believe you." She looked out the window.

"That's okay. You don't have to. You have to try it, and then you'll stop being a skeptic."

He pulled the car out of the parking lot.

She released a tight breath she hadn't realized she was holding. His scent—God, it was dizzying.

She rested her hands on her thighs and resisted the urge to grab either her own flesh or his.

"Where are we going?" she asked after several minutes of silence and crackling repressed sexual energy, singeing the air she breathed. Her throat burned with questions and her mouth watered over his agonizing sensual aroma.

"Someplace that will help you . . . Someplace safe for you," he breathed, and drove that car with precision, speed and skill. She had to steer her thoughts away from how he might be exactly the same way in bed, with his cock inside her, driving her to places she never imagined she'd go.

She closed her eyes, imagined sliding right out of that car's seat like water gliding over a smooth pond stone, and finding a place she belonged.


	7. Chapter 7

**Chapter 7**

"I think we need to start with a game of trust," Edward said.

She stiffened even more in her seat, if that was possible. He was at ease, his entire body relaxed.

She frowned, and tucked her arms under her chest to give herself some stability and some sense of composure.

He smiled and his eyes went to her chest.

She realized her arms were propping up her substantial breasts, making them look more pronounced. And God, her hard nipples were ridiculous. He probably thought her tits were fake with the way they kept misbehaving.

"I enjoy a brunette's nipples. Show them to me," he said.

Her heart stopped. "_What_?"

"Trust me. Take 'em out." He reached over like he might brush the back of his knuckles on her erect nipple closest to him. She batted his hand away. "These . . . I want to see them. I'm gonna show you something about yourself."

She cupped her breasts for protection. "No."

"Why not? I'm sure they're beautiful, and I so admire the dark raspberry ones."

"_Raspberry_? What's that supposed to mean?" She shoved herself against her car door, creating as much distance as possible.

"When they're hard and dark red, they pucker like the little beads of fruit on a raspberry. That's when I really love sucking them. I also call them that, because you're brown hair and fair skin makes me believe it's going to be a bright lush pink with a raspberry colored tint." He bit his lip then released it. "I'm sure it tastes as good."

"You show me your blueberry of a dick first," she blurted.

He smiled, his head kind of lolling back and forth in a cocky manner. "Hold the wheel," he said.

He wasn't going to pull over? What the hell?

She was in a daze, and somehow her hand automatically flew out and gripped the wheel. Her eyes moved to the roadway and she heard the _ziiiiip_ along with the unmistakable sound of a cock being pulled out.

_Holy Virgin Mary, help me! I'm gonna crash this car all because there's a dick out in the open._

She could smell him—all his carnal self, goddammit. Her wetness increased dramatically.

What if it was small?

What if it was monstrous?

She wanted to lick the tip already even if he might be flaccid.

_Of course he's soft. He's not attracted to you._

_Then why is he asking to see my nipples?_

'_Cause he's testing you to see exactly how big a tramp you are._

She shallowed her breathing and cleared her mind by thinking about that money he left on the table.

_That's right; your whore's tip. He won't respect you any more than Doug did._

_Fwwwwwurp, fwwwwwurp, fwwwwwurp_.

"Uuuummmmngh," he moaned.

He was . . . Was he?

God, he was.

The motion she could feel below her arm told her exactly what was going on.

He was masturbating as she steered his car.

"It's out. Where's yours?"

"Oh . . . I uh-hhh," she murmured and lightly cleared her throat. Now what?

"It's your turn. Don't make me wait," he said with a crisp tug on his manhood.

His fingers flew her to sweater a moment later and he was pulling the shoulder down, revealing her bra strap.

"Shit!" she yelped as she reflexively jerked the wheel.

He chuckled and slowed down, easing his foot off the gas.

Then he took her hand off the wheel, put his left back on, and kept her left hand in his right. "Let me show you something else then." He settled her hand on his very hard, very thick meatus

It was wet.

_Lick it . . . _She shook, her hand trembling as it rested on his dripping slit.

He liked that? He was attracted to her—_maybe_?

It was hard.

It was big.

She wasn't gonna make it, since she really was a slut, and loved cock more than anything.

"Touch lower and you can feel my cock-ring," he told her.

Should she? Her eyes slid closed; she avoided looking at this thus far.

What was the harm in touching a little lower though? She already had his erection in her grasp.

_Not a problem at all. I can handle this. It won't affect me._

"I . . . I shouldn't," she said her high voice soft and full of longing and fear.

She could almost feel his chest purring like a happy cat being stroked.

"Should I make you suck it instead?" he asked.

She swallowed back a gasp; kept her eyes straight ahead out the front window.

"Then touch lower," he demanded, answering for her.

As her hand maneuvered down, she grew dismayed at her silky underwear slipping around on her abundant lubrication with the little movement she made to get into a good position.

He was still driving the car, the lunatic.

She was cupping his balls, touching the stretched silicone cock ring. It felt nice—smooth.

He whispered, "That ring's not what has me this hard. It's you."

She squeaked like a little door mouse, killing the mood.

"Enough. Time to cover up," he said.

He tucked himself away with one hand as soon as she let go of him.

"Let me out," she demanded.

"Yes, I think I will."

He made a turn and they were back in the restaurant's parking lot.

Did he circle them around the block on purpose.

What was this?

Some kind of mind-control experiment?

She was fully clothed the entire time, but dammit, she was so exposed and naked emotionally, she was shattering inside, debased by all of it.

Tears glistened in her eyes.

Oh, God no.

Tears would most likely enrage him .

"Did I make you cry?" he asked.

She turned her face to the window and kept silent.

Bella gripped the door handle with one hand, her knuckles blanched.

"Why are you avoiding me?" he asked.

Was he honestly this stupid, or trying to mock her?

"You have no clue about women," she gritted.

"When they act like a nun one minute and grab my dick the next, then I kind of lose track of what I'm dealing with," he said matter-of-fact. "Stop trying to hide what you really are. You wear too many masks. You're so guarded that it's hard to read you."

He said _what _he was dealing with Not _who_.

_Bella, you're a thing, an it, a what. Not a person to him_.

She balled up her free fist, the other digging into the door and she smashed her teeth together. Her eyes flooded with tears.

_Get the fuck out of here!_

Before the car stopped completely, she had that door wrenched open and was flying out of the seat.

She ran for her car, tears streaming down her cheek.

Even if she broke her leg on the asphalt running in heels, it would be better than staying in his miserable car with him.

She had touched him.

Her skin crawled, because he was messing with her. He didn't like her at all.

He parked his car next to hers.

And she . . . She was heated and his control, lack of reaction in his car, made her wetter.

_Damn! Damn! Damn! You will go to a whore's hell, Bella._

As she rammed the key into the hole, she felt him coming up from behind.

A moment later his hands were on her shoulders, pressing firmly down. His mouth was at her ear.

"I'm sorry. I was trying to show you something," he said. "But there's so much resistance from you, so I pressed harder. I shouldn't have done that."

She huffed, stomped one foot and tried once more to get her stupid car door unlocked.

"You can at least say goodbye before you flee the crime scene," he said. He brushed her hair over her right shoulder and placed his lips right at her ear. His breath ruffled through her hair, and a sudden urge to kiss him and scratch the hell out of his chest, barraged her.

"Goodbye," she said.

_Click._

The door was unlocked. She struggled to open the car door with him so close behind her.

She was unable to get anywhere with it, since he was up behind her, and she was forced as a result to lean into the car door.

"You shouldn't drive in this state," he said. "I need to make this okay first."

As if him driving while she was touching his dick, was safer?

"I'm fine," she rasped.

The tears cooled her flaming, shamed cheeks.

He turned her around. "Bella . . ."

She looked down, unwilling to meet his eyes.

"I don't know you, so I don't realize when I might offend you. I come across as gruff, but it's not to be mean. It's just the way I am. I'm about business, pleasure on demand, and a good beating somewhere in between."

Her gut seized up and her heart about leapt out of her chest. How was he making her so slushy between the thighs for him? She disliked him immensely, and the pain he was known for inflicting on his subs, terrified her.

"Yes . . . you _like_ that," he said, catching on to her visceral reactions. He was running his hands over her moist cheeks, drying them in the process as he spoke.

"I . . . so what if I do?" she asked.

Her eyes flicked about. If she looked straight down, it was as if she was staring at his erection on purpose, encouraging him to seduce her.

Where to look?

"Exactly . . . A beautiful woman like you? There's nothing wrong with liking what you see when a man reveals himself to you." He smiled; though she was looking away, she could hear it in his voice. "Did you like mine?"

She tried to clear her throat with a rough wheeze, unsuccessfully. It was all gravel and sandpaper. "I like _all_ hard penises," she answered truthfully. "I . . . I can't help it."

"And how many have you seen?"

"Too many," she said. She should be mortified to talk about this and admit freely she was a slut, but for some reason, with him, it was okay. He made it decent and desirable even.

"I'm happy to add one more to your list. How did it rate?"

Well, she . . . she didn't get to see it, but she knew.

"A ten," she blurted based on the fist size he commanded.

He chuckled then kissed her forehead. "Good, good. I like to hear that. And I want you to know, it's even better in motion."

_I'll bet . . ._

"Such a beautiful little girl," he purred. His hand drifted down and he ran the back of his knuckles in a soft sweep across her lower abs. "I know how to make you happy again since I've upset you more than once now . . . I've heard you like a fudge-packed brownie."

"My _God_," she groaned, shutting her eyes and rolling her head a little. He could make a sex therapist sweat.

"And you can eat more. I saw that appetite."

Shit! He _was_ saying she was fat at dinner by ordering from the light fare menu. Now he was mocking her.

"No, thank yooou, I'm full."

"You're full?" he questioned, tone playful.

She was slurring her speech because his seductive hands kept smoothing across her stomach.

"Yessss," she said, slow and hazy.

Back . . .

And forth . . .

Slow and hypnotic.

Tingling.

Blooming with heat.

Pricking the soul.

His hands were a damn tool of sin and debauchery.

She gritted her teeth. "I'll get dessert later at home."

Through her periphery, she could see his smirk. "And what do you plan to eat?"

_Don't say brownie._

"Something chocolate probably." She needed it since she was stressed after being around this confusing man tonight.

"Okay, chocolate." He took her hand and started pulling her back to his car.

"I'm going home," she said.

He turned and huffed, parental exasperation in his eyes. "I'm going to help you whether you like it or not."

Her spine went rigid, and her eyes were alarmed.

This could destroy her if she liked it and wound up wanting more.

"I won't touch you. I just want to talk to you a little more and find out what you need. I can help you. Do you know how many women I've helped come out of themselves?"

She shook her head a little and tried very hard to think of anything but his dick being inside pussy after pussy. Ones that were much more gratifying to him than hers would ever be.

It should've disgusted her, the thought of him inside others, but it didn't. The idea of an experienced man made her clit engorge and throb a little.

"I'll talk to you, but I don't want to go back inside your car," she said, anchoring her heels to the ground. He would have to drag her and possibly break her legs to get her to relent.

"Would going back inside that restaurant be acceptable?"

"No!" she barked. They saw her disgrace earlier. "I don't want dessert."

"Oh, a difficult _woman_." He exhaled, his breath washing over her neck.

He hated her. It was doused in his tone when he grunted woman, like lighter fluid was being thrown on a small flame.

She cringed and waited for the inevitable "no wonder" comment, to round it off, but it remained unspoken.

It helped her relax a little.

"What would you suggest then?"

"Let's go walk on the beach," she said, pointing.

He was wearing an expensive suit. She was wearing a skirt.

None of that mattered to her.

Edward was the one cringing now, but he nodded, put his hand on her lower back and propelled her forward.

Once they were at the edge of the parking lot, they removed shoes. She waited patiently for him to take off his socks and roll up his pants.

She smiled.

He was being sweet, willing to do this for her. Her heart bubbled up with warm, gooey feelings.

So many facets to him.

They set their stuff aside, up against the side of the building.

He took her hand and they looked like comfortable lovers, out for a stroll in the moonlight.

She sighed and tipped her head back. The moon was surrounded by a cloud, looking like a halo. It was unworldly—kind of like him.

"There's no reason you can't find the perfect man if you can figure out exactly what you want," Edward spoke plainly.

Easy? There was nothing easy about it.

"If you answer my questions honestly, I can help you," he said.

She offered a small smile of compliance.

"Okay," she said, a half shrug making their intertwined hands rise for a moment. She couldn't fight him anymore. Her mental and emotional exhaustion wouldn't allow for it.

"Good," he said. "Why don't you describe a typical date you go on with a man you're interested in."

Oh God, why didn't he ask her to describe the color and shape of her clit instead. This was a disaster; so personal.

She felt the blood drain from her face.

"Um . . . well, usually they ask me out, and I respond by saying yes."

"Because you're excited, or because you're settling?"

"Because I'm always horny," she blurted, then flushed with shame.

He chuckled. "Well, I asked for honesty. At least you're getting that part right."

Her face contorted with pain. "What am I getting wrong then?" She stopped walking.

"What you're doing wrong is holding back with men."

"I have to," she said, her voice soft and difficult to hear above the rolling waves.

"Why do you think that?" He tugged her along so they could walk again.

Did he think if she kept moving, she was less likely to over-think and analyze each word? He didn't know her very well. She could do that during the sex act without having to concentrate too hard.

"I . . . good girls don't think about the stuff I do." She fingered the cross necklace for a minute.

"Who told you that?" he asked the same basic question in a different way.

She gulped and went mute.

"Okay, let's try this a different way. What could you possibly be thinking about, that would warrant damnation to your soul?"

Thoughts of threesomes ran through her mind and she blushed hard.

"All sorts of dirty things. I like it rough."

"That's not a sin, sweetie." His thumb brushed the front of her hand as he held it.

Goose bumps rushed up her wrist.

"It is when you're not even married to the guy. I can't help it, though. I need it."

He smiled. "Can you get off when you masturbate?"

"Yeah, but I hate it. I feel even worse after doing that than I do after I've had a night in bed with a man I only dated a few times."

His gaze was contemplative.

"I know you're not ready for the club—but it would solve so many of your problems. So, for now I want you to call me and tell me about the guy's you're going to go out with. I'll prep you and get you ready." He paused, then continued, "And then you call me afterward and tell me everything that happened. I'll critique the date and you. I'll tell you what you did right and what you can improve on. I want to work on trust with you, since it's a major issue."

"I don't have issues with trust," she replied.

"Look me in the eye, and answer me this—have you ever trusted somebody so implicitly, you knew they'd never hurt you; that they'd guess what you needed or felt before you knew for sure yourself?"

"That kind of trust doesn't exist." She swallowed. Never in her life, could she trust anybody with everything she was. Not even her parents when she was growing up.

"It does in my world." He smiled. "Now, let's get back to the plan. Call me before and after your dates. _Clear_?" He tipped his head with a crooked brow, eyes narrowed as he searched her eyes.

"But what if I slip and have sex with the guy on the first date? I don't wanna share that with you," she said, frowning.

"You just did—by admitting right now it happens to you, I won't be surprised, and you won't be embarrassed," he said. "Problem solved."

"I will too," she griped.

He chuckled for a second. "Fine. Feel bad all you want, but at least you'll be a step closer to getting what you want."

She idly wondered why he thought the club would answer all of her problems. How could it?

They would turn her into a wild animal—unfetter her and there would be no going back. She would detest the darkness of every corner of her soul. Right now at least she could deny how tainted she was, because she refused to acknowledge the depths of her base nature.

"Give me your phone number and email. I want to know you'll answer my calls too, so I'm going to make sure you—"

"I'll answer them," she said, beaming.

For the first time in a really long while, she was hopeful. Maybe even a little happy.

.

.

.

"What's his name?" Edward greeted as he answered his phone. He was already smiling.

First phone call from her and it was only one day since their beach walk, talk, and confessional.

"Uh, it's Tim," she said, sounding disconcerted by his abrupt answering of his phone.

She was at work. He was too.

"What do you like about him?"

"Well, he has these sea g-green eyes and when he uses them on me, well, they're full of sweetness and heat. It's so alluring," she said, breathless.

She had him hard. As. Stone.

Fuck. His eyes were green, and she was one of the few women that knew that since she saw him without his contacts in.

Unfair advantage.

"And why do you think that is?"

"I . . . 'cause he likes me too?" she squeaked.

"No, sweetie. He likes what he sees when you wear those tight sweaters of yours. If he keeps that nice-guy look out of his eyes, what are his chances you'll say yes to going out with him? He has to put on that facade."

She sighed. "But I already know he's a good guy. I've talked to him a few times," she argued.

"Good, and being nice, are two different things. You can't tell after talking to somebody a few times if they're good or not."

"So does that mean you think I'm a bad person?" He could hear her breathing stop.

"Breathe. Take a deep one, and stop over-analyzing." He turned to his window. "One thing you should know about me, is I think every person I know is bad, with the exception of you, Bella. You can't fake a massive guilty conscience like that. You worry so much about your soul, I'm surprised you don't bathe in holy water daily." He chuckled, but it was tight, filled with concern, since his gut was loaded down with that.

Part of him wanted to see her succeed tonight, but another part, wanted to sabotage it. A clawing, gut shredding pang ripped through his stomach at the thought of this Tim's hands on her. He could tell already the man didn't deserve to be in the same room as her.

"I would if I could get a large supply," she muttered under her breath.

He laughed a little louder.

"Okay, so what does Tim," he snarled the name a little, "do for a living?"

"He's in law enforcement—"

"Oh, God no! Don't tell me you're one of _those _women—the ones that fall for anything moving around in a uniform," he groaned.

"When I met him was in his civilian clothes. Does that put it in that category of 'those women?'" she teased.

"I suppose not. What's the plan for the date?" he asked, speeding along to get the facts before his stomach flayed itself open.

She huffed. "Just the typical date—dinner and drinks."

"Ahhh, good choice." His voice was cool.

"Really?" she asked, her voice flying high in pitch.

"Yes, really. Quit being insecure. It's not attractive." He chuckled. What a bastard he was—expecting the truth from her when he thought her insecurities made her cuter than hell. "_Helllllooo-o_? I said . . . what are you going to wear tonight?" he repeated.

Was she drinking at work?

He turned back to his desk and pulled out a pad of paper to take notes. When she failed to respond promptly, he clicked his pen over and over, thinking about what she'd told him so far.

"Oh, uh . . . a loose flowing skirt, a button up top and some strappy heels. I thought I'd wear my hair up."

"Wear it down," he said.

"Oh . . . but why?"

"You wear your hair up and you're begging him to attack you." Were all women this incompetent when it came to men's hormones? Or just her?

"Oh, but I . . . I thought it would look demure." She sounded so shy and lost. He wanted to hug her. After tying her up . . .

_Focus, asshole. Tell her what she needs to wear down to every detail._

"Minimal makeup, and no red whore lips. Wear pink. What color are your shoes? Not red are they?" he hammered out his questions like he was nailing a coffin around her.

"No, they're white." He could hear her feet moving about like she was pacing.

Obviously, he was making her nervous.

"Hair down, straight. Don't put it up at all—no pins, no combs, no nothing. And you wear neutral colors." What was he doing? He was sabotaging her without thinking. Men liked colors. It was opposite of anything they would ever wear. The brighter and bolder the better; her dark hair and sparkling light brown eyes would look . . . God, he didn't care. She needed to do this right—and that meant slow and no sex. "Low heels; three inches or less."

"Should I be taking this down like a memo?"

"Yes, dammit. You're secretary, aren't you?" He chuckled, but it was dark, like his mood. He crumpled up the top piece of paper on the pad. All he'd written for himself was _Help her, and tell the truth_! Too late for that.

"Anything else? Should I avoid offering to pay for my portion of the meal like I usually do?"

"Yes. A real man never lets a woman pay. That's why I paid for you last night, and that wasn't even a date. Don't settle, Isabella. It's not for you to lower your standards that way. If he can't afford it, then he shouldn't have asked you out," he said, barely containing his growl. His chest ached. He threw the balled up piece of paper into the garbage. When she didn't respond, he put it all together. "Oh hell, don't tell me—he already said you're responsible for part of the nights expenditures."

"He never said that. But maybe I need sex tonight and need to increase my chances." He could hear someone talking nearby her, asking her to submit something for them to their boss.

He gritted his teeth. "This is why you need the club. You get your sex there. You go on dates, and you're not out of control with raging needs. And then while you're out at dinner, you don't have to think about if you're a Domme, if you're a submissive. You see?"

"Oh." She paused and typed something on her end. "You do that? You go on normal dates?"

He ripped his tie off. It was choking him. And right now he wanted to choke Tim. "I'm not a Neanderthal that only lives at the club, flogs people that step past my cave's entrance and then fuck 'em, 'cause I can," he answered.

"I knew that. You're not a caveman, just act like one at times." She giggled.

"Oh?" he mused. "I am; am I?

"Well, maybe not." More typing, the keys clicking with vicious speed. "I think you're more like the snake that lies in the water and when the poor unsuspecting woman leans over to get a drink, you bite her in the ass, then fuck her in it."

She laughed so hard some man came in to see if she was alright. His hand shook from the image of her being ogled by some shit-head at her office. It made him spill his coffee on his tie he'd laid on his desk when he reached for it to put it back on.

Edward tossed his tie in the garbage too, next to the paper. Fuck this. He was seeing his sub tonight.

She had him wound up too tight, and he never lost control like this.


	8. Chapter 8

**Chapter 8**

Edward was seriously considering calling his sub, Melissa, to come meet him on a weeknight. And he never did that.

If he asked her out for drinks, it could be a big mistake.

There was the possibility it would make her clingy, and she might even brag to the other subs about how she'd laid stake on his heart or some bullshit like that.

But he needed it. Needed that sense of control.

Bella was turning everything in his world upside down.

His teeth ground together, and his jaw flexed. He closed his eyes and stretched his neck.

Ever since his call with Bella and hearing she was going out on a date tonight, his chest was tight and he felt suffocated. It was like his collar bunched around his jugular, constricting it even though the top two buttons were undone.

If she was his sub, she wouldn't be this lost, going out with some other clueless guy unsure of what she really needed . . . Oh, how those words stung.

His hand gripped his phone as he checked the time and willed her to call him to say she was home safe. He was worried about her. When the call didn't happen, he stuffed it back in his pocket.

What if he was right and the guy was a creep?

What if that dick _did_ ask her to pay? She'd do it. He knew she would.

Yes, he didn't know her very well, but he could see that fire in her eyes. She'd pay.

The thought set his hands gripping his shot glass hard, and his murderous gaze made the bartender give him a wide, very accommodating berth.

Where was Melissa tonight? He should know the answer to this. His sub was great about saying where she was. She always texted him when she got in. And she had today, but the information escaped his memory.

He simply didn't care. All he could think about was Bella.

She should be home by now, right? He checked his phone once more.

A little after ten. She had to go to work tomorrow.

His claws dug into his glass.

"I asked for another drink, didn't I?" Edward snapped at the bartender when he breezed by.

His phone buzzed in his pants.

The bartender slid it over to him, keeping far enough away the dark man with a dagger in his eyes wouldn't maim him.

"Where are you?" he snapped, answering the call.

"Hi . . . I'm, uh, I-I'm in the ladies' room," her soft voice rang. He could hear unshed tears behind her words.

It was Bella; not his sub. Thank God.

"What restaurant are you at?" he asked, already standing and leaving his payment on the counter.

"He invited me back to his place. He's being kind of aggressive about it, but I don't wanna be _that_ woman. Should I go?"

"No! Stay where you are. I'm coming to get you right now. If that man drove you into the bathroom, then he can drive himself the fuck home without a date." He rushed out to his car and started it up. She still hadn't said which restaurant she was at. "Bella. I'm not kidding—where are you? Tell me now."

She sucked in a stuttering breath. "At a place called Tomaso's. It's on Sweetwater and—"

"I know where it is." He pulled out of the parking lot. "I'll be there in fifteen minutes."

"What if he comes looking for me? I can't stay in here indefinitely."

"Let the fucker wait. I'll give him something to look for." He glared at the road ahead.

"I think I . . . I should tell him I'm going home, and I'm just really tired. I can try again with him another time."

Edward growled. "You sure as hell won't. Bella . . . Where are you _again_? Must I remind you it's not going well and you had to get away from him?"

"No, you don't have to . . ." She sniffed.

Shit. _Tears?_

"I won't then, but you don't deserve to be treated this way. He's a dick, and I knew it based on the things you'd already told me," he said.

"But he's not. He's a nice guy, and I was hoping maybe if I keep trying, I'd find a nice guy I could date, and maybe my love life won't be so . . ."

"So _what_?" He cornered his car sharply, making the wheels squeal.

"I don't know—non-existent. It keeps getting worse and worse. I want to date and meet the right guy, but it never feels right." She sighed. "It's me. I'm too messed up to be involved with anybody."

"That's not true. The only thing you're missing is getting your needs met. I want to help you." He flashed his lights at the slow car in front of him with their lights off. _Fucker, get off the road!_

"But I—"

"No buts. You called me, and I'm glad you did. I'm on my way. Do _not_ go back out to where he is. When I get there, I'll let you know with three knocks in rapid succession, followed by three slow. That's your cue to come out. I'll take care of you, _and_ that bastard."

"I offered to pay for some of the meal. It was _me_. He's a police offer, it's not like he did anything wrong," she said, her voice broken and stilted.

Edward passed the imbecile in front of him, still with their lights off, and ran a yellow light. He was headed toward the freeway on-ramp. "He sure as hell did. Any man that makes a woman question if she should pay for part of the date—God, he's lucky if I let him leave with his balls intact." Had she listened to anything he'd told her before this date? He told her not to offer to pay; told her not to dress like this . . .

"You're not g-gonna hurt him, are you?"

"He'll be able to walk to his car, but that's all I can promise." He wanted to chuckle at the thought, but this was pissing him off that she'd been hurt and he could've prevented this.

"Please, I can't allow him to be hurt," she said. He could hear her shuffling about.

"Bella—do not leave that bathroom. You stay put. What happens to him is not your concern."

"It is."

"Why? Because he's a cop?" He chuckled darkly. Cop his ass. He stretched his neck from side to side.

"No, but . . . I don't know. I just think I'm responsible for this."

"Stop it now. Unless you want to tell me every word you said to him and what his responses were, I want you to stop saying it's your fault."

_Click._

His spine turned to ice—she was leaving her spot.

"Do _not_ leave the bathroom!" he gritted.

"I'm not. I was locking the stall," she said, sniffling more.

"Jesus—the door wasn't even locked? You're definitely staying there until I get to you." He hit the gas pedal harder.

"Why does this happen to me? I don't like being alone all the time. I love men—I absolutely love everything about them. I only want ta be happy."

His heart warmed and a lump landed in his stomach. He gripped the wheel so tight, it creaked. "I know, sweetie. And you deserve to be happy. You're just wading out into the wrong ponds to find similar fish. Let go. Stop doing this to yourself. You need to be willing to love yourself so you can move in the right direction, and I know you're brave enough to love every part of your beautiful self. You. Are. Worthy. We'll work together to unravel who you really are."

She stopped breathing. He heard nothing at all.

"I don't know if I can . . ." she finally said a few seconds later.

"You can. I know you _can_." He exited from the freeway and was less than two blocks away.

"How can you know that?"

"Because when you speak—my God, there's no vice there. All I hear is a woman yearning for freedom and for love. You can have both those things. I want to help give them to you."

"What are you saying? I'm not a . . ."

"A what?"

"I . . . I don't know. Never mind." More shifting on her end. "I feel better; I think I can face him now."

"And what do you think that's going to accomplish?" he said through his teeth, but it came out sounding like a concerned friend, rather than a pissed off Dom. Good. He didn't want to frighten her with his intensity in this moment.

"It'll mean I can face my reflection tomorrow morning when I get up and have to face my day," she said.

He could see the restaurant ahead.

"Maybe. Have you considered it might make you feel worse? That maybe this is against everything you are inside? You're not a confrontational person by nature. Yes, you went toe-to-toe with me when we met with your friends around us at that restaurant, but I wasn't your date you were trying to let down. I heard about how rough it was on you when Doug broke up with you."

"I don't want to talk about that."

"We won't then. I want to talk about you—what you feel inside." Shards of stabbing adrenaline crashed through his veins. He'd see that man in mere minutes, and straighten this mess out for her. She deserved to be taken care of, not shit on and told she was lucky to be out with the guy.

He parked the car and was out in a flash. His long stride was quick and direct.

The second he was inside, he saw the ladies' restroom sign. He motioned to the hostess like he was going to use the restroom for himself since the mens' was only a few feet past it.

He gave the distinct tap on the bathroom door he'd told Bella he would.

"_Edward_? You're here already?" Bella whimpered in the phone, and he could hear the absolute relief in her tone.

"I am. Open the door, sweetheart. I want to see you. And don't you dare even worry for a second about how you look. I don't care if you cried and you have mascara smeared on your cheeks. You're a beautiful woman no matter what." He ended the call and shoved his phone in his pocket.

The door opened, and her eyes were red and swollen. Dammit. She'd been crying—_a lot_! How had she kept it so quiet while on the phone? He'd suspected tears were happening some of the time, but shit. She was _really_ hurt.

His hands balled into fists, and his neck tightened.

A tremor of fury ran through him at her asshole of a date.

"Come here," he said, stepping inside with her, sweeping her into his arms at the same time.

The door closed on its own.

He held her and suddenly, instead of bursting into more tears, like he expected her to, she stiffened.

"What's wrong? Am I holding you too tight?" He pulled back to look her in the eyes.

"I feel . . ." She paused and bit her lip then cast her eyes down.

"Look at me. Say exactly what you feel. I won't judge you," he said, his hands on her upper arms now.

"_Stupid_ that you had to come and save me like this," she said softly.

"_Bella_ . . ." His voice was tight. "There is nothing stupid about needing help. It takes more confidence to ask for it then to try and do things on your own. I _want_ to help you." He pulled her back in for a hug.

"He's waiting. What am I supposed to say when I show up out there with you at my side?" Her voice broke.

He stroked down her back.

Shit. Her hair was up.

He glanced down at her outfit. She'd gone against everything he'd told her. Well, he'd discuss that later.

"You're not gonna say a thing. I'm gonna deal with him, and then we're leaving. I'm taking you home." He pulled out of the hug gently, kissed her on the forehead and wiped away silent tears running down her cheeks.

"I hate being weak," she said, her face contorting in anguish. She dropped her head and stomped her right heel.

"There's nothing weak at all about you. A brave woman admits when something's not working for her and changes it. That's what you're doing." He grabbed her hand and pulled her out of the bathroom. They needed to be somewhere private and comfortable so they could really get into this in more depth.

"Where's your table?" he asked her.

She pointed at it and he strode right over there and stopped right in front of her date.

"Tim, I'm sorry to tell you, your date is over." Edward let go of Bella's hand but blocked her from that idiot. He pulled out a wad of cash and placed it on the table. "She's going home now, and you're not to call her."

"Who the hell are you?" Tim asked, eyes wide.

"I'm what she needs. And now—" He pushed the money closer to the prick and glanced down at the booth, his own eyes narrowing. "Since you've already lied and told her you're in law enforcement," Edward chuckled low and dark, "I think it's time you say goodnight."

"I didn't lie," Tim began.

"Those sure as hell aren't real cuffs. That's the cheap nasty stuff that digs into the flesh and leaves the person battered, bruised, cut and sore." Edward leaned over and grabbed them off the seat at Tim's side. They looked brand new—not a knick or scratch on them. He tucked them in his pocket. "Do some research before you hurt somebody." Tim's spine stiffened and he opened his mouth as if to argue once more. Edward stopped him before he started by cutting him off with, "No cop would use their real cuffs on a woman for fun, no matter how much they enjoyed BDSM. And let me tell you, your setting them on the seat to intimidate Bella so she'd go to your place with you afterward, didn't work. She's smart, and she knew to get away from you right away." Edward knew Tim wasn't what he said he was, based off how Tim wouldn't ever actually tell Bella where he worked, where he was stationed. Edward figured the fucker was a player, but he didn't think the guy was this big a bastard. Looking him straight in the eye now and seeing those shitty cuffs, he knew for a fact this man was a lying asshole. Probably worked as a cashier at some supermarket or owned a crap-business he was ashamed of.

Bella touched the back of Edward's shoulder like she was really uncomfortable and wanted to leave right away.

"Bella, say goodnight. Tim won't be seeing you again," Edward said, keeping his eyes on him the entire time.

"What the hell is going on?" Tim strained his neck up so he could see and address her. "You disappear on me for over twenty minutes, and when I ask the waiter where you went, he hasn't got a clue. Then this shit-head comes in here and—"

Edward gripped him by the collar and yanked him out of his seat. "You apologize right now for all you did to offend this woman behind me, and when you're done with that, you apologize to me for calling me a repulsive name." He shook him and then let go, dropping him back onto his seat.

"Hell no! Get out of my way—I'm getting security to—"

Edward ripped the cuffs out of his pocket, snapped one on Tim's wrist and then slipped the other end onto a bar under the table. "Fine—you don't have any manners and don't know how to play nice, then you can stay here in timeout until you figure out what it means to climb out of your asshole and treat a woman decent." He smirked at the douche-bag then grabbed Bella's hand and took her straight out to his car.

He helped her in without a word, and when he dropped into the driver's seat, he heard her murmur, "Thank you."

"You're welcome, but—" he turned toward her "—you're done dating for now. I'm not even going to critique this date tonight. It's not your fault. You didn't do anything wrong. He's what's wrong. He's _wrong_ for you. You don't need this shit." He reached out and ran the back of his hand down her still-damp cheek. "I'm going to free you."

She nodded, but her eyes looked worried.

He smiled and her spine melted back into her seat. Without thinking, his protective side kicked in once more and he reached over and buckled her in.

"Tell me you're going to let me in your place—we need to talk," he said while pulling the car out of the parking spot.

"I don't think I can," she said, her fingers fidgeting in her lap.

"Hey—I'm not going there to seduce you," he said. His legs were bouncing; filled with adrenaline. He so wanted to run back in there and beat the shit out of that brainless dead-weight. His breaths were pounding out of him. No wonder she thought he was going to take it out on her sexually. He took a few deep, calming breaths, loosened his grip on the steering column and tuned into her body language.

She was staring at her hands, picking at her cuticles.

"Can you tell me why you don't want to look at me?" he asked.

"Because I don't think you'll like what you see. You think I'm an idiot for going out with Tim in the first place," she said, her shoulders rounding forward.

"Why would I think that?"

"Because I _am_ an idiot for going out with him," she replied, giving a half shrug. A loose strand of her hair fell forward.

He reached out, tucked it back behind her ear and rubbed her earlobe between his thumb and forefinger right after that little gesture.

She exhaled slow and loud.

He smiled.

She liked that. This woman needed to be touched and _often_. It didn't even need to be sexual at all.

"Give me directions to your place," he said.

She rattled them off and her hands now dug into her thighs.

He reached out, grabbed the closest one and set it on _his_ leg instead. Once she relaxed her hand, he stroked the top with his thumb. Her silky skin was wonderful, and there was this light electric charge coming off her. She was like a frayed wire, her emotions sparking all over the place.

He hummed quietly as they drove, and let her center herself and her thoughts. He already knew what he had to ask and discuss with her.

When they arrived at her house and he parked, nobody moved.

So they simply sat. It felt right to let her be, and he wasn't in a hurry to let go of her hand.

He stared at her apartment complex.

It was nice. Seemed quiet.

"Green," she said.

"That's what I like to hear." He turned to her and smiled softly. Green was go. Green was _I'm comfortable_. Green was what he wanted for her. "Why do you feel green, not yellow or red?"

"I don't know." She looked at him and sadness filled her eyes.

"You do." He reached for her other hand and took it in his. "I want to show you something."

"What?" She blushed.

"No, I'm not taking my cock out like last time we were in my car. Another little experiment—that's all." He chuckled at the way relief washed over her.

"O-okay, I think I can do this," she said. Her shoulders bunched up.

"You're a shitty liar. Stop doing it," he said.

Her eyes narrowed. "I should be mad you said that, but I know you're right."

"I am." He nodded. "Okay, here's what we're going to do. No more dates for you for now. I'm going to call you tomorrow and we're going to come up with a plan to help you get what you need."

"What do I need?" she asked, and that fire was back in her eyes.

"Only you can answer that."

"I need sex."

"Clearly, but what happens when you have vanilla sex with these guys?" He popped up a brow at her.

Her eyes shifted away, but he moved into her line of vision, crooking his neck. "Tell me."

"I feel worse after—hollow, and then I wonder why I even bothered," she admitted.

"That ends now." He moved his head back to straight and her eyes followed his. "I'm calling you tomorrow at ten. Can you take a break at work during that time so you can answer my call?"

She hesitated, and he could see her resisting inside. "Yes."

"Good girl. Okay, now for the little experiment." He placed both her hands on the edge of her seat between them. It made her lean toward him. It might help so she wouldn't shrink away from this. "I know you don't like the idea of being a submissive. That's fine. You're not ready to consider all that I want to show you, at least not yet."

She blinked and looked a little stunned.

"I . . . What am I supposed to do? Pretend like I don't have a backbone, when it's obvious I do?"

"We can discuss that later—your mis-perception. Here's what we're gonna do: I'm going to say a few simple phrases; you're going to repeat after me. Don't think—only _feel_. And when we're done, you're going to tell me if you're green, yellow, or red."

She nodded with barely a tip of the chin. It was like she was afraid to break eye-contact now that she'd found it.

"I want to be free, Sir," he said.

She swallowed. "I can't say that."

"You can, and you will." He brushed his fingertips over the backs of her hands. "Now, take a deep breath, dig deep, and remember don't think. _Feeeel_."

"I w-want to be . . . Free."

"Sir," he repeated.

"Sir," she echoed and licked her lips. Her eyes immediately went down.

"Oh, you're such a good girl. You've pleased this Dom. Now, say: I want Sir to help me acknowledge my true nature."

She sucked in both her lips then let them pop out. Her eyes closed, and she whispered, "I am a good girl, and I do want Sir to help me acknowledge I'm brave."

"That's not what I said." He gripped her hands lightly, trapping them in place. "If you want rewards and you want to feel right in your heart and in that stunning body of yours, then you'll say it right. Do it. I know you can."

She exhaled and her head lolled forward.

He let go of her left hand and hooked the knuckle of his index-finger under her chin to tip her back up. "Say it so I can hear it. And look at me while you're doing it."

She opened her eyes and they were soft, pupils dilated and there was an all-out war going on inside that head. He could almost hear bombs going off inside her, but she needed this, so he kept going.

He blew in her face lightly. "No thinking. Say it before you can tell yourself it's wrong."

He set that hand that was under her chin, on her shoulder and looked her directly in the eyes.

"I want Sir to help me acknowledge my true n-nnnnature." She stumbled on the final word. Her eyes flooded and she broke down. "Help me . . ." she whimpered.

"I will, sweetie. We'll take it slow if you need to."

He leaned in to kiss her, and suddenly, she leaned away, opened her door and flew out of the car.

A second later, he was after her. She was at her door, trying to run away; hide inside.

His palms hit the door on either side of her.

"Turn around, and tell me what's going on," he said in her ear.

He caged her in, but she could get away if she really wanted. His body inched closer, moving slowly so she wouldn't frighten and take off once more.

"Yellow," she said, her shoulders up around her ears. She rested her forehead on the door, and her hands braced her up, below his.

He placed his palms over the backs of hers.

"Okay. I pushed you too much. I'm sorry it scared you. Tell me—were you yellow the entire time during that exercise?"

He ran his right knee lightly up the back of her thigh. She exhaled and her body caved forward, sagging her weight.

"No. I was green."

"Even when you called me Sir?"

"Yes," she whispered. Her body started shaking. Oh God. More tears.

"Talk to me, please, Isabella. I'm trying to help you here, but I . . . _Fuck_!" he leaned in and kissed the back of her head. "I don't wanna leave you like this. Let me inside; I'll hold you, and if you don't want to talk, you don't have to." He dragged his hands up her arms and let go before he reached her shoulders.

He stepped around her and unlocked the door for her since she'd already jammed the key into the lock. When she didn't budge, he pocketed the key and picked her up then carried her inside.

She was limp and obviously shattering inside.

He toed the door shut behind him. His steps were careful but sure.

He sat down on the couch and took her right along with him, keeping her in his lap.

When she settled into him, he stroked her hair.

"I know it's scary to face this, but you're doing so well."

"I'm not," she said, burying her mouth into his chest.

"You _are_. And you don't have to jump in my pond if you're not even sure you can swim yet. I'll teach you to float, and you'll be safe with me. Can you at least think of me as a friend, not your enemy?" His arm was breaking out in chills from the combination of the heat of her breath pelting his chest and the feel of her silky hair in his hands.

"I can do that," she said, gripping his shirt.

"That's a very good girl," he cooed into her crown. He placed a kiss there. "Do you want me to stay a little bit longer and put you to bed?"

"I'm not an invalid," she said, yet, she stayed where she was, tucked up in his body.

"No, you're not. You're a smart woman, finding her way to happiness, and that's admirable." He settled his chin on her head. "I respect you for that."

She hummed and nodded a little, then wrapped her arms tight around him. "Stay."

"I'd love to." He chuckled and propped his legs up on her coffee table.

There was a lot he had to say.

.

.

.

Edward called her at ten the next day.

She didn't answer. There was no way she could face him, not after the way she thoroughly mortified herself by sitting on his lap, crying and freaking out. She was a mess!

Why else would she keep checking her phone to see if Edward had called once more, yet she already knew she'd ignore it again if he did?

She pulled out her phone for the fourth time in the last five minutes and this time there was one simple text from Edward waiting for her: **I thought we were working on trust. Call. Me. It's past 10.**

She texted him back, **Had a busy morning. Talk to you later.**

She hit send, tucked it away and went back to work. Her best strategy was to keep busy, and besides, she needed to gear up for getting her purse back. She left in such a rush from that restaurant with Edward last night, she'd left her purse on the opposite side of the booth where Tim was seated. She hoped the restaurant found it.

Her phone buzzed five minutes later.

She ignored it; she'd talk to him later that night. Knowing her, it most likely would be when she was so horny, she would worry her ovaries might burst if she didn't have sex before the sun rose, and she'd say even more reckless things to Edward.

Did he have to be so insanely hot and so powerful she could feel chills rush across the top of her heart when he spoke with such force? So many times last night at her place, she almost broke down and begged him to have sex with her, but then she'd remember that dick, Tim, and she'd cut herself off. She was no good with men, and it wasn't going to matter if they were a Dom or not. Period.

Edward said several times he was proud of her, but it was flat sounding. No doubt he was telling her what she needed to hear because he pitied her for being such a weak woman.

She told herself repeatedly his opinion meant nothing at all. He was a lunatic with a club for sexed-up women.

Women like _her_.

Her jaw was getting sore from being clamped all the time, when it needed to be in an O shape from a long and hard orgasm. Those seemed to be fleeting lately.

She shuffled the papers on her desk and went back to work. No more fantasizing about how amazing it would feel to have Edward trapping her beneath him, similar to how he had her boxed in last night, against her door.

A half hour later, trying desperately to concentrate on the task before her, work spread out on her desk, she heard somebody approaching her office.

"She's back there," she heard one of the worst of the office sluts say—Brandy.

Even her name said "STD's with a side of coleslaw for lunch."

She cringed. Who was looking for her now? Better not be Tim, or she'd call security.

She wore her tightest skirt and blouse possible today. Bella really needed to get laid, and she needed to feel worth something, dammit. She needed a man to notice her, and tell her she looked nice if nothing else. Anybody without a wedding ring and a pulse would do at this point for any of those activities.

"Ah, yes, I can see her office from here. Thanks," the familiar voice said.

"Shit!" she squealed quietly and ducked behind her door.

If she left it open, he would think she was gone and left early for lunch.

Edward glided in the door, confident as hell. His hair was a little disheveled and he was clean shaven like last time, but he looked like dessert.

Oh hell, he looked like sex—probably smelled like it too. He was going to be hard to resist and stay tucked away from.

She sucked in her belly and inched back in case he pushed the door open wider.

He laughed. "Glass windows are such a great invention," he said.

Edward thrust the door shut.

_Duh!_ He could see her reflection.

His eyes raked over her outfit and he frowned.

"Men are seeing you wear that, and what do you think comes into their mind?" was his greeting when their eyes met.

"They're thinking, wow, she needs to get to a gym, and it must be laundry day if she's wearing something as provocative as that to the office," she deadpanned.

He chuckled through a sour look. He slowly prowled forward, his eyes tight on hers. "I think you're taking an insipid tone with me. Do you think that's wise, especially after ignoring my call?"

"Insipid? Is that a new zero calorie cola?" She smirked.

He was right up in front of her now, his body an inch from hers and his mouth even closer. That grin dripped off her mouth like the fluids slipping onto her panties.

Tension rippled through her but dissolved into pure lust.

"You like to pretend you're in charge with me. It's cute, and while the effort's commendable, I want to teach you how to make your body, mind, and soul sing—make what you want into a reality." He blew across her lips, then stepped back.

She was dazed; her eyes glazed over and her cheeks heated.

"Now, I'm sure you've learned, you're not going to avoid me anymore. If you try it, I'll crash down your door. We said I was going to help you, and I'll do exactly that. Tell me all about the date last night. You've had time to let things calm down. I want to know exactly what happened. What he said, how he looked at you, what he did."

She turned away from him.

"I need to get some lunch," she said, changing the subject.

"I figured as much, so I brought you some." He pointed at the two bags he set right inside the door when he came in.

Oh. Okay. Why was that . . . nice and making her butterfly, inside? It was childish to have such a reaction. Especially when she distrusted men more than ever.

"What did you get me?"

"Fish," he said, his eyes dull.

She frowned. "Ewww! I told you I hate fi—"

"I'm only teasing; relax," he said, smiling and this time, his whole face lit up.

She pressed her thighs together so she could tamp down the throbbing between them and keep from jumping this man.

She was warm all over inside when she looked in his eyes, and those butterflies melted away.

Her eyes were heavy hooded, and a vision took over of her sinking to her knees as she called him Master; his hands gripping her hair as she unzipped him. She gripped the sides of her skirt to get her thoughts under control.

"What is it then?" she asked, her throat tight.

"A big slab of Texas toast with a greasy piece of cow meat on top," he said.

She turned back around. He smiled.

Wow.

And a moment later they were sitting on the floor, their backs up against the wall and she was chatting about a copy machine guy she kinda molested with her errant breasts. But that didn't count as a date, so in her eyes, this man sitting beside her couldn't be disappointed or mad at her.

She recounted how she'd dropped a paper on purpose, so copy machine guy had to lean over her to get it.

It was fun, but not enough to slake her desire for a naked sweaty man in her bed.

He rested a hand on her thigh, and she was comforted, until he said, "Stop doing that to men. It's not right." He got up to go. "It's not helping you either. No more of that."

As he dusted off, she blurted, "And what about your sub? Did she blow you last night after you went home? Does she know you're _helping_ me?"

He smirked. "Oh, how much do you think it's going to cost you for me to answer that question?"

"It's only fair. You pry into my personal business. I need to know yours too," she answered.

He grinned in a twisted, sort of seductive way. He helped her up, and she damn near slid up his body.

"Well . . . ?" She waited.

"I agreed to help you; it's not a two-way deal. You don't need to know about my dates because I'm happy with who I am and how my life is."

_What? I thought we were friends . . ._

"I don't like it," she muttered, chin down.

She was mentally sliding back down to the ground.

He tilted her chin up, by placing the bent knuckle of his index finger under it. He pinched it a little with his thumb right below her lower lip. He kissed her softly and chastely, and she stared at him, her eyes full of confusion and despair.

"Do I need to get rid of Melissa so you'll let me help you?"

She nodded.

"Okay," he said. "I'll see if another Dom can take her."

She smiled but she knew it was a pathetic, sad kind of pouty one.

He chuckled low and deep, like a wind about to sweep through and carry the loose papers away off her desk with him.

"Is she a good sub? Does she get you off all the time?"

He ran the pad of his thumb across her lower lip. "Someday when you're ready for my bedtime stories, I'll tell you a tale that will excite you," he promised, "and finally allow you to get yourself off with those beautiful fingers of yours. I'm sure they're more than adequate for the job."

His eyes sparkled at her.

What kind of bullshit was this? She was melting from tiny, insignificant touches, and last night . . . Forget it! She was like a baby in his lap that whole time. Pitiful!

He tossed out their garbage from lunch with a swiftness that belied he was suddenly in a hurry, and then exited without another word. The door shut behind him.

"Well, fuck you, too," she griped, and went back to work.

She might need to go to that club to see who this sub was he said he would get rid of . . . No doubt Melissa was heartbreakingly beautiful, docile and everything a Dom ever wanted. She could tell Rose she was there for her scene. Nobody would suspect.

She popped her knuckles and snapped her jaw shut.

_No! Never going inside that place!_

**A/N:**

**Thank you to my pre-readers: Paxson Adkins, Boo1414 and now, Soapy Mayhem. Their input is so important to me, and I'm so grateful to have their help. I rewrote major portions of this chapter based on their feedback, and I absolutely love the new changes.**

**Soon, Alice's story will start to weave it's way in.**

**Hope everyone is enjoying and surviving the holidays!**

**Chanse**


	9. Chapter 9

**Chapter 9**

"Uuuuhhhhaaaah," Rose woke to a stilted, heaving breath. Panic gripped her.

_Thu-thump. Thu-thump. Thu-thump._

Where was she?

Oh, shit. She'd talked to Emmett on the phone last night, they had phone sex, and then he wound up at her house. She fucked him senseless for as long as she could then they crashed in her bed.

But now? The steady pulse of his heart was under her ear. His humid breath was in her hair, and she was perspiring a little from their bodies being glued together. It was the most peaceful feeling in the world, being here like this with him.

She glanced over at the clock. They slept together all night in her bed like a couple.

Was this allowed? She was still trying to figure out the rules here.

He had to leave.

She shook his chest.

His body grip loosened on her. He was even more lax.

Did he always sleep this heavy?

"Emmett," she spoke, trying to jar him along with her hand gripping his muscular bicep.

"Whhaaat?" he moaned. He pulled her to him, and crushed her against his chest.

Her nipples were hard in an instant—damn him.

"You need to leave," she said.

"Mmm . . ." he hummed; groggy.

"Now, Emmett. I have things to do. You should be better by now." That was her excuse last night for letting him stay. She'd been harder than ever on him with the spanking and prostate milking. He acted like he loved every minute of it, and she couldn't get enough of it either.

"But you didn't stroke my ass to make it feel nice and cherished," he groused.

"If I massage it lightly and put some cream on it, then will you go?" Why was she negotiating with him? The manipulative bastard. She'd already done that for him last night.

Too late now, though. She already offered, and he was rolling over onto his back, kicking off the blankets.

_She rolled her eyes. Good move, Rosie. Why don't you cook him a gourmet meal and draw his bath while you're at it? You're babying him._

She'd pay for this. Her ego would suffer.

He'd tell others about what a pushover she was, and there'd be so much backtracking she'd have to do. Not worth it.

_This is why you do this shit at the club, never at home!_

She slouched as she tromped through her room to the bathroom and grabbed the new bottle of cream she'd opened last night. It better work fast so he could get out and she could compose herself then get ready for work.

She dragged her body up on the bed, slathered it in a mess on his ass and rubbed it in.

He wriggled around some, but the fight was sapped out of her. She could barely take the time to do this for him.

And he was full of spunk and energy, ready for more.

This was a poor match. Yep, definitely needed a new sub.

She'd talk to Jasper right away; call him after Emmett left. If he'd ever leave!

Was he the clingy type? Was his bravado all an act at the interview and at work? Was he simply vying for her attention?

Well, he got it. She was completely sucked in.

He rolled to his side and smiled with all the power of a warm spring day.

"God, you're beautiful," he said.

She blinked hard. "Thanks."

"I mean it. I think about it all the time, how pretty you are when you're happy, when I please you. I love seeing you that way."

She smiled and itched her chin with her shoulder since there was still cream on her fingers. It was also a good excuse to hide her reaction.

She was doomed to failure as soon as he smiled at her in that alluring way.

His charm was genuine; she understood that now, but it continued to disarm her.

"That feels nice," he said. "Good cream. Where'd you get it?"

"We can talk about that later. I need to get you fixed up and out the door." She plopped down behind his back and stroked feather light up and down his spine. Goose bumps popped up on him, and she let her eyes glaze over, focused on how to appease the club's needs and her own.

Jasper might refuse to help her find another sub.

After all, they didn't have a surplus of male ones.

She might be stuck with Emmett, unless she walked away now and forgot about the club.

_No! You fought so hard to get in. You can deal with Emmett for a few weeks. They'll see what you can do, and subs will come flocking._

_Yeah, right. Like they do now?_

She lacked exposure before, but now she'd have it. It would work out.

Emmett was writhing around, obviously hard again.

Oh good grief! How many times was she going to have to allow him to release in her place? His ejaculate was probably crusted over on her carpet by now.

If she was a real hard-ass, she would make him clean it up before he left, but she couldn't seem to bring herself to do that. Not when she wanted him so badly all the time.

No. She needed to get ahold of herself.

And at this point what she really needed was privacy and to take her home back over. He overwhelmed the place—lighting it up.

"Emmett, time to go." She patted his ass with a light touch.

He hummed, content.

"You have wonderful hands, Rosie. I fucking mean it. When you touch me . . . I don't know, it's like my world stops moving, and all there is to be aware of is you. I _love_ that feeling. It's amazing."

"Mistress," she corrected, because fuck if she knew what else to say when he was being so heartfelt and tender with his words.

She wanted to believe him, but . . . God! This wasn't supposed to happen. She barely knew him, and already, he had _her_ tied up in knots inside. She wanted to do anything at all to please him, to make him hers in every way.

The sound of him saying her name was doing things to her; making her cave. And she was uncomfortable with him being so familiar in addition to her desire for more.

"Oh." He pushed up to all fours, gazed at her over his shoulder with a flirty brow as he said, "I thought we were done playing and we were back to ourselves now."

She smacked his thigh. "You will always call me Mistress or ma'am unless I tell you otherwise. Now, go! Go to your people." By that she meant back home and to work.

"Sure thing, ma'am," he said, mocking her.

A giggle almost escaped her, but she refused to reward him for insolence, so she smacked that ass once more then propped her gooey hand up in front of her mouth so he wouldn't see her doped-up grin.

"Leave. I'm not telling you again."

"And what if I don't? What will you do to me?" He waggled his ass at her, tempting her. "Put those amazing hands on me?"

"I won't scene with you Friday night at the club, and you can find yourself another mistress," she threatened.

"You're lying. You want it too bad. You wouldn't," he balked.

She wiped her hands on her shirt, sauntered over to her phone in the kitchen, picked it up and dialed up Jasper.

He ran after her and yanked it out of her hand.

She snapped her jaw shut.

Damn. What was she supposed to do now?

"You avoided punishment before when you've talked back," she growled, her fists balled up now.

"I guess I have." He giggled.

"You think I'm joking here?" She stalked after him and he circled around her island, keeping some distance between them.

"No, ma'am. You're far too serious for that." Those dimples! Fuck!

"And what's that supposed to mean? You think I'm a stuffy bitch?"

"I know you're a stuffy bitch. You keep things up your ass on purpose, remember?"

"Emmett . . ." she gritted ". . . I will show you exactly how unfettered I can be on Friday night. Now, I'll let you go home while you can still walk." She heated when she thought of how she'd spanked him last night with the crop, and how he came so hard, he spurted all over the damn place.

Doms were to avoid punishment when mad, so she rested her palms on her island countertop and took several deep breaths while he ran back to her room, hopefully to gather his shit and get out.

A moment later, he returned, fully dressed and hauled his ass out the door.

Dangerous. She knew he would be. He knew where she lived now, and she'd already set a precedent by inviting him over after a hot session with him on the phone.

After he left her place, taking his dimpled smile and his tight ass with him, her stomach cramped up on her when she thought about how she'd been on the edge of losing control with Emmett again.

She'd wanted to slap his face, and almost did.

Unacceptable.

Emmett irritated her, but only because she allowed him to get to her. That's what really pissed her off most.

She struggled to bury her self-deprecating thoughts as she got ready for work.

What if it got back to his buddies, though? They may not have her as a trainer now.

Although if they wanted to dismiss her, most likely they'd have done it already.

She slumped in the shower anyway.

Slumped in her closet as all her stuffy, bland clothes hung lackluster on their hangers. All monochromatic and boring. Emmett was right. She was too stiff.

She slumped in the kitchen through her coffee, wishing he was here, brightening up her space.

After she ate breakfast, she barely had the energy to put on makeup and fix her hair for work, but she did. It was a gym day and she ignored that too. Exercising could wait.

On a normal day, she'd spend time accessorizing, picking out her favorite toe and above-the-knuckle rings. She loved jewelry. She'd taken them all off on the weekend for her interview to get accepted into the club and had forgotten to put them back on. Rose was grateful she had left them behind, since she was smacking people around so much over the last few days. Metal rings could leave marks and produce damage.

See? She did try her hardest to be good at what she did and behave responsibly.

She stepped out her front door, stuck on that thought, when she looked down to find a vase full of flowers on her doorstep.

Pink.

All pink and a variety of greenery too.

It was fragrant and cheery.

For some stupid-ass reason, it reminded her of her golden boy—Emmett.

Had he planned this? Had these been in his car all night? Had he been waiting to give them to her this morning?

A tear gathered at the corner of her right eye and she got choked up at the thoughtfulness of his gesture.

She picked them up, placed them on the counter quickly and ripped the note off, tucking it in her purse. She'd read it later; if she read it now, she'd be a bawling mess over how much he moved her.

Her heart was swollen with overwhelming, unnamable feelings for him. And apparently those swollen feelings, lodged in her vulva too. It was engorged and ripe regardless of how many times she came last night. There was no relief for her now since he was gone.

It was her own damn fault—hooked on the feelings he evoked in her.

Great. She was now a junkie.

Somehow she'd have to ask Jasper how other Doms dealt with this type of stuff—obsessing over the kinky sex moments they had with their subs, the way it made them feel. Because right now, her fingers flexed at her side, begging her to call him up and strap him down to her sex furniture one more time.

Separation—it was key.

She drove to work, her emotions all over the place.

Rose arrived at work on time, gave the polite smiles and greetings required and locked herself into her office.

"Knock, knock," her boss Carl said, rapping on the door.

He was too hyper this morning, already making her recoil from him.

"Yeah, come in," she said in a curt tone.

He smiled, poking his head inside.

"Hey, kiddo. Got an emergency situation for you to handle. Another construction site with a big harry trust involved." He placed the folder on her desk. "If you need help, let me know . . ."

She never accepted help. Independent and reliable—that was how her colleagues knew her.

"I can deal with it on my own," she said, flipping the file open.

"I know you can," her boss said and left, smiling.

Christ!

It wasn't a different location. It was the same one!

Emmett might be there. Oh shit! This could be very awkward and very bad for her already out of control feelings for him along with her uncooperative raging libido in his presence.

Her throat constricted and she choked down a quiet sob.

She regretted her laziness this morning in avoiding a trip to the gym. Now she'd be even more tightly wound.

_Tap, tap, tap, tap._

Her short rounded nails clipped up and down on her desk. She could call Carl right now and tell him she'd already handled that one . . . and couldn't somebody else take it over?

But no. He'd say that's exactly why she was being sent back. It was an unresolved account.

She could do this.

Rose grabbed a water bottle out of her mini-fridge, grabbed her hard hat out of the bottom desk drawer along with her steel-toe work boots. She always felt ridiculous wearing boots with her classic skirts and crisp white blouses, but it was her routine. Why change it now?

_Well, what would Emmett want you to do?_

To fuck his brains out in front of his asshole work pals, that's what.

She snorted. That was going to happen right after she chained him to the scaffolding there and probed his G-spot, showing them how his man-juice oozed out of his tip involuntarily.

Oh, how she loved seeing that. She'd never tire of it. It was the hottest thing ever.

Hell, _she'd_ pay to see that. He really did own a magnificent cock.

Well, fuck that. She was working. This had nothing to do with him.

Rose could be stubborn—walk out there in her three-inch heels and wobble about like a ball-busting bitch, but with her luck and clumsiness, she'd trip and twist her ankle.

Thanks anyway. Her ass was staying off the ground.

Once she had everything she needed, she sped off to that spot where it all began—where Emmett had groped her butt.

But this time, if he touched any curve on her body, she'd rip her hard hat off and make him eat it.

Oh yeah, and ride his cock while doing it.

A nudging at the corner of her mouth resembled a smile. Almost . . .

Rose pulled up on-site fifteen minutes later. Unfortunately for her, the traffic flowed well. No stalling.

Well, kind of. She debated once more heels or boots. In the end, practicalities won out.

As soon as she had her boots on and strolled on-site, the cat-calls, whoops and whistles started.

She slammed her shoulders back, took a deep breath and ignore their stupidity.

This was standard work-crew behavior. She expected it, but for some lame reason, she hoped Emmett was seeing other men clamoring after her.

Was he jealous? What if she flirted with one of them?

_Me? Flirt?_

She was charming, enticing even, but didn't flirt.

Not unless she really desired a man, and that rarely happened.

She wanted to smack herself in the head for even entertaining these ludicrous thoughts. What was she thinking, wondering about him being jealous? Pfft! Stupid!

She gave up playing coy a long time ago. It only earned disappointment with vanilla sex and a man being put-off by her domineering nature. And why would Emmett care what she did?

Rose knew herself, and this was all beneath her.

So, she stuck to her job.

When she found the construction foreman, she sighed in relief.

No trace of Emmett.

They exchanged greetings and paperwork. He explained the situation and why they had to call her back.

Apparently the land was involved with a trust, but wasn't mentioned by the owners until they found their money couldn't retain the land in their family.

The bridge to a freeway had to come through here. No choice but to let it go.

Well, these people were tenacious, even conceded a portion of the land, but not all. And all of it was required to have the proper support structures in place.

"Is your whole crew in today?" she worked into the conversation.

"No; the engineer that oversees the work is out today. He's across town, and we aren't pouring concrete today because of this snag with these damn fools holding onto land they were doing nothing with," he huffed.

The man was gruff, but she liked him.

He was easy to talk to.

She laughed at his surly demeanor. Oddly, he was endearing like a big old cranky bear, lacking teeth and missing claws.

"Does he need to sign any of the paperwork?" the foreman asked.

"No. I've got your signature and the corporation's as well. It should all go through in a week or two once I deal with their lawyers," she said.

The idea of drowning in work was encouraging. It meant she'd avoid dwelling incessantly on that dreamy tight ass of the beast's and his caterwauls of pleasure when he reached his high.

Her gut tightened and her clit was pulsing again.

Damn. She needed a new body; this one she owned was defective.

The rest of the day was spent in telephone calls, arranging meetings with these people and their representation.

By the time she left, she was mentally exhausted, and wished she had that ass to beat on. Man, did he take a beating. And even told her she could give more.

What the hell? Was he trying to induce a verbal orgasm on her, saying things like that?

_Get your flabby butt to the gym._

Her thoughts were scattered, and most of them involved him naked.

After work, she grabbed a quick bite to eat at home then left for the gym. Pounding her own body into submission would help her focus better.

When she got there, she ignored what a dive it was as she parked her car near the front entrance. Didn't matter to her it was a tattered up place; cheap.

She was a frugal gal. It was ingrained in her to save every penny and take care of herself. Her retirement account was swelling nicely, and she lacked nothing except an expensive gym, serving up mineral water and frigid air conditioning.

This place was always humid and stank of sweat.

_Well, get used to it, Missy. It's probably gonna smell like that at the club quite a bit._

Rose missed the days she used to go hiking with her mom as a teenager in Phoenix. But after Rose fell and skinned up her forearms and sprained both wrists, she refused to go any longer.

That was Rose's unspoken motto—if she sucked at something or somebody pissed her off, she dropped it, never to return.

Her time was valuable.

Rose stepped up to her favorite treadmill: the one closest to the scratchy brick wall. It was bare and looked lethal if somebody was rammed forcefully up against it.

She liked that spot because the bricks retained the morning coolness from the beach.

Straight ahead of her, through the floor-to-ceiling window, she could watch the surfers.

She ignored them in the past, but today . . . Well, she was drawn to them.

What if one of them was Emmett out there?

He said he surfed.

And probably lifted weights too.

_Of course he does. With a body like that?_

She set up and dropped her bag between the wall and the treadmill. After flipping to her favorite song on her iPhone, she woke the machine up and paced into a slow canter.

"Hoooo, hoooo, hoooo . . ."

She puffed along, steady even breathing.

The waves were hypnotic and soothing along with the setting sun casting a bronze glow on everything, including the few surfers out there, ripping through the tides.

One of them in particular resembled Emmett.

He was showcasing all of his reckless talents, doing flips and dangerous stunts.

A few times her breath caught in her throat when it looked like he might've hurt himself. One time in particular, a grueling wave crashed over him and her heart dropped into her stomach.

Was he hurt?

Should she go out there and check on him or send for help?

Instead, she turned the speed up and darted into a hectic sprint to numb her mind.

_Solid, solid, solid. I can do this. I can own Emmett's ass this weekend in front of the club. Doesn't matter if zero or fifty people are watching us. I can do it._

Her brainless chant kept her moving.

_Tap, tap._

"Excuse me, Miss?"

"Shhhhhit!" she screeched, wobbled and slipped off the side of the treadmill.

In order to avoid breaking things in her bag, her left leg flew back behind her, twisting her ankle awkwardly.

Her right elbow scraped down the brick wall, and she tried to ease herself down by bracing the fall with her right hand. Instead, she received a gash on her palm and twisted it funny, forcing her left knee to skid across the unbending metal and whirring track.

Perfect!

Her left inner knee was shredded and bleeding, her right elbow and palm stung and her left ankle might be sprained.

"Oh, my God! Are you alright?" the young woman asked.

She worked there; either that or she wore a god-awful yellow polo for no other reason than to rebel against any type of fashion-sense in existence.

"Yeah, I'm fine." Rose sat there, flustered.

She hoisted herself up, dusted herself off and tested her ankle a little bit.

"I'm so sorry to interrupt your workout, but we have a one hour limit on the equipment and you've exceeded it. Somebody complained because they want to use it," the woman said, flushing.

Rose scowled. There were two empty ones to her left.

Fine.

She limped, no, not limped, but favored her right leg, as she went and filled out an injury report at the check-in desk at the front of the gym then emptied out of the place in a foul mood.

Oh this weekend was going to be a trial with a compromised leg, burn marks and bruises.

.

.

.

Bella got ready to leave work, replaying Edward's visit earlier that day and how relaxed she was in his presence. He could be very charming when he wanted to be, and he made her smile more than she had in weeks in that short amount of time during their lunch together.

She sighed with a lackadaisical grin as she grabbed her keys and phone. Her call to the restaurant had been fruitless. Her purse never turned up. She spent most of the afternoon canceling her credit cards and trying to get things straightened out.

As she stepped out to her car in the mostly empty parking lot, a warm hand gripped her above her left elbow.

She yelped and jumped.

"Going somewhere?" Tim's voice echoed in her ears.

She shut her eyes and hung her head. "'I'm sorry about last night," she mumbled into her cleavage. She tucked her phone and keys into her pockets.

"Turn around, Miss Isabella. Say it to my face, since I had to explain to the waiter why I was cuffed to their table. I had to compensate for some of the damages to the table as I struggled to get the keys and free myself, and you know I don't get paid a lot to protect this shit-hole of a city." He gripped her arm tight and turned her around.

When she looked up at him, a chill ran down her spine. He was almost sneering at her, and though she'd had other men gape at her tits, this felt different somehow.

"At least give me a kiss goodnight for my trouble," he said.

"O-okay," she said.

He tipped his hips forward, trapped her against her car door, and then his mouth descended like a fierce animal about to swallow her whole.

She cried out, but it was swallowed up by his eager tongue, plunging inside. His hands were in her hair, pulling and on the edge of ripping.

Her body wrenched to the side, to ease the tension, but it only made him pull harder.

His mouth consumed her, and that bossy nature of his that had secretly turned her on before, and that ripped body of his, was suddenly terrifying. She pushed on his chest, but that solid slab of muscle was going nowhere.

He released her hair, and had her hands now pinned to the window behind her. She moaned. It was hot; it was scary and so fucked up that she wanted more, but only with somebody else. With another green-eyed man with messy bronze hair.

Fuck. What was wrong with her?

"Give me the green, Isabella. I know who you are. I know what kind of a whore you are." He spread her legs with his own.

"What are you talking about?" Her brow formed a V.

"Domme? Right? Show me. Overpower me," he taunted, and he gripped her wrists tighter, kept it on the edge of pain. He bent his head down and bit along her neck.

"Stop . . . This," she mewled.

"No. Be a bitch to me. Fuck me, and show me what a pussy I am." He chuckled.

She was wet, but not for him, and she was pissed now that he was threatening her.

Her foot went up, and her heel crashed down on his foot.

He grinned. "That all ya got?"

"No." She let her arms, wrists and hands go lax to make him overconfident. When his grip loosened, she dropped her weight and head-butted his dick.

_Crunch!_

Owwww! He was wearing something metal down there.

"Oh, you wanna suck it, do you?" His hand went to his zipper to free himself, but before he could pull it out, she leaned over and took a hunk out of his inner thigh, gripping her teeth so hard, she heard his pants rip at the seam.

"I knew you bitches liked it rough, but this Dom's gonna show you how it's done," he snarled. He raised his hand to smack her, but she pulled her heel off, and nailed it into his palm right as it came flying at her.

"Ssssffffff," he sucked in a tight breath of air.

"You asshole! Keep away from me!" she screamed, hobbling to her feet when he backed away several feet toward a street light in the parking lot so he could inspect his hand.

"Why? We're just getting warmed up," he said, stalking back toward her, rubbing his palm.

"I'm not into pain, you asshole!" she shouted.

"You are when you're with me," he said, his head down and his gaze straight at her throat. He came at her with his hand outstretched, ready to choke her.

She managed to jump into her car and jam the key into the ignition.

She locked the door, and a second later, he was banging on her window and laughing. "Let me in . . . It's time for you to learn some manners."

"Fuck you!" she hollered and started the car.

"Yes, please," he said and then licked her window.

She shivered with disgust and peeled out of the parking lot.

It wasn't until she was halfway home, the tears gushed out of her. She shook from head to toe, and her lungs were tight, fighting to take in a full breath. Her diaphragm spasmed every few seconds and snot ran down her lip. She wiped it away and slammed her palms into the steering wheel after.

Once she stopped whimpering, she pulled her phone out and called the only person she knew she could trust.

"Hello? Bella?" the familiar voice said.

"Hey, Rose . . . Can I come to the club Friday night to watch your scene? Can you set that up for me?"

"Yeah, sure, but are you okay? You sound upset," Rose asked.

"I'm . . . Yeah, I'm good. I'll see you then."

"I'll make sure you get in free as my guest," Rose added. "Come find me as soon as you're in, since you're not supposed to attend alone. I'll let them you'll know you'll be with me."

"Okay, I will. Thanks," Bella sniffed and ended the call.

When she got home, she stripped down immediately, threw herself into bed and cried herself to sleep.

.

.

.

Friday. Day to woman up and take charge.

Work was boring and long, and Rose needed this.

Her goal was to appear there in a feminine outfit but exude competence and skill.

Alice would be there watching, backing her up, giving her courage to let loose.

Rose should be excited but instead she was nauseous.

The moment she stepped into the club, it got worse.

Kerosene was in the air, making her stomach roil.

Perhaps she should have avoided that light salad for dinner before arriving?

She wanted to be able to focus, not deal with a growling stomach, so she choked the greens down.

Now she was paying for it.

She signed in at the front and introduced herself to the big burly Samoan guy manning the front door. He was imposing and instead of seeing him as a challenge to overtake and dominate, she found herself cowering inside.

What was wrong with her?

_Shit, girl! You are afraid of no man!_

That was right. Or used to be.

For some asinine reason, once she snuggled up with Emmett in her bed, it all crumbled slowly around her.

She could get it back. And she would.

With her bag slung over her shoulder, she pranced into the dressing room, head held high.

She'd show them something special; unique.

Slowly, she peeled out of her street clothes, and pulled on her black velvet bustier with the matching skin tight pants. Her knee ached as soon as she rolled the black material up into place. The snaps were hard to fasten since her hands were shaking so badly.

Heels next. She prayed her ankle would be sturdy and not give out on her.

Today at work she had to take them off. Her scrape and twisted ankle proved too much for her.

Tonight she'd get past all of that.

She fluffed up her curled hair, reapplied her red lipstick and powdered her face since she was sweating already with nerves.

Shoot! Her rings.

She pulled out a black ribbon in her bag and strung her rings on them, tied them at her hip in a discreet spot. Nobody would notice them, but she felt better having them on her. They kept her grounded.

The amber lights glowed around her as she emerged and she caught her breath.

Ahhhhh. Home . . . All she needed now was her beast.

.

.

.

Bella shoved her keys in her skintight black corset she covered with a loose dark tee shirt that dropped off one shoulder. She'd remove the tee once inside the place if she felt out of place with it on. Her black skirt was glued to her hips, but it was short enough she could walk without too much trouble. She was wearing her favorite wedge heels; so comfortable. Her hair was twisted into a loose knot. Hopefully she'd blend in all right. She really wasn't sure what anybody would expect of her.

She gave them the info at the front door Rose had shared with her to get in free, signed the required forms and made her way inside, holding her breath with each hesitant step.

_Find Rose . . ._

Bella slunk around each corner, her core rolling and tight with fear and anticipation. Her head was buzzing as she glanced around the place. She did not fit in—already. Her outfit was entirely too conservative.

She glanced down at her tee shirt, considered taking it off, until she spotted _him_ and her breath lodged firmly in her throat.

A moment later, she was glued with her back against the wall as she hid the best she could. She yelped as he turned in her direction.

Those green eyes were electric, and scared the shit out of her. His dark hair was all spiky and he was dressed entirely in tight black leather, his chest hair on display along with his six-pack abs. The whip curled up and attached at his hip made bile rise at the back of her throat.

"Bella, there you are!" Alice chirped as she came out of the ladies' room. "Rose is waiting for you."

"Shhh!" Bella hissed, her finger over her lips.

"What are you doing?" Alice whispered, hunching down like Bella, at her side.

Bella pointed. "I'm hiding from him."

"The man holding the hand-bag? He looks like he's trying to find somebody," Alice observed.

Bella swallowed hard. Was he looking for Bella? She squinted. The bastard was holding her purse she'd left at the restaurant a few nights ago from their disastrous date.

"Hey, I know him." Alice stood up straight and her eyes went wide then heated. "That's my fuck-hot boss, Tim."

"Your . . . _Boss_?" Bella's voice broke. Shit. Why didn't she put it together before. She knew Alice's boss was fine and named Tim. "But . . . You don't work in law enforcement." Her brow furrowed and her fists balled up.

"Is that what he told you he did? What a clown. He's always playing practical jokes on people." Alice chuckled. "You know what I do for a living."

"Remind me," Bella said, her eyes on Tim the whole time, still concerned he might see her and do something rash.

"I'm in real estate. I flip houses, and Tim does the same thing. He owns the firm, and he's very successful at what he does. He has connections up the ass for fixing up a place that's barely standing." Alice exhaled and it was the sound of a woman completely turned on. "Look at him. He's so fucking sexy. I could orgasm by brushing up against one of his biceps." She sighed. Suddenly she turned to Bella. "Wait—why are you hiding from him?" Her eyes turned to slits.

"Well, I . . ." Bella's gaze went to the floor and her shoulders hunched up. "We went on a date a few nights ago, and it didn't end well. That's my purse he's holding. I left in a rush . . ." She bit her lip at the end to keep from saying more and pissing off her good friend.

"I'll go get it for you," Alice said, and before Bella swiped after her, Alice was marching straight toward that dickhead.

Bella was frightened for her. In her heels, she ran in the opposite direction of her one friend she knew could help. Forget Rose. She had to find Edward right away. Alice had no idea what that man was like.

.

.

.

Alice slid up behind Tim, covered his eyes and whispered, "Guess who . . ."

"A slut I don't wanna fuck?" He chuckled and removed her hands from his eyes.

When he turned around and smiled at her, heat ran up her spine. So hot.

She smiled back and stared straight in his dark green eyes. "Were you looking for something?"

He nodded and dangled the purse out in front of her. "Your friend forgot something."

"How'd you even know she was my friend or where to find me outside of work?"

He shrugged. "I've heard you on your phone before, talking about this place to her, and when I figured out during my date with her who she was, I thought I'd come check this place out." His eyes traced over her curves as he smirked. "And it seems I was right to come here. You look hot."

"Thank you." She grabbed the purse for Bella.

"Does your friend really think she's a Domme? 'Cause from my experience, she hasn't a dominant bone in her body." He leaned forward and whispered. "I tried to prove that to her the other night, but I think I only frightened her. If you see her, tell her for me, I'm sorry." He straightened back up.

"I will." Alice debated telling him Bella was here right now, but instead she shifted her weight to the right to look over his shoulder. She could see Jasper giving her a thumbs up. He said if she wanted to mingle tonight and get a feel for the place, it was fine. Their training hadn't officially begun yet. Jasper turned around to deal with an unruly sub of his that had just spilled drinks on another Dom's lap on purpose.

Alice almost giggled at the naughty audacity of that woman Jasper was now dealing with.

"Looking for a sub to play with tonight?" Alice arched an eyebrow then returned her gaze to Tim.

"Sure." He held out his hand.

She took it with the hand not clutching Bella's purse.

"Dungeon?" she asked.

"Dungeon," he agreed, and his legs moved like a motor was attached to them.

She almost had to sprint behind him to keep up.

This was going to be an amazing night she'd never forget!

She squealed and jumped but managed to nip at his heels all the same without falling too far behind before he wound up dragging her.

"Are you as excited as I am?" she asked, a little out of breath.

"Ecstatic," he intoned and yanked her arm to pull her to his side. "No more talking. I'll tell you when I want your opinion on something." He grinned and they passed through the shadows of the hallway to get to an empty dungeon room.

Her back misted with perspiration and her heart hammered as her lips sealed shut.

_Anything. I'll shut the fuck up for the rest of eternity. Just touch me . . ._

**A/N:**

**Thank you to my pre-readers: Paxson Adkins, Boo1414 and Soapy Mayhem. I'm excited to announce that I have a real couple, who've been in this lifestyle for years as D/s, giving me feedback as well so I can make this as realistic and reflective of the lifestyle as possible. It's been wonderful to hear from them.**

**Lots of news, most of it on my profile for links so if you want to follow me on Twitter, friend me on facebook, or want to chat in general. I only bite when asked to. :D**

**Come join us over on my facebook group, World of Play: Scarlett's Stories (remove spaces on all links I share): www . Facebook #! / groups / 157946840950900/ if you want teasers or want to talk about this story or any of my others.**

**I'm also going to be reposting my old stories (after fixing errors) I took down from my Scarlettplay account on this account very soon, since they've got lemons. If you choose to talk to me on Twitter or facebook or anywhere online, please don't mention the names of the stories I write as Chanse Lowell, since I really need to keep my RL friends and families in the dark about this.**

**I'm also over on Goodreads (same issues—don't mention these stories please, unless you PM me about them. That's why I created my facebook group, so I can talk about these stories freely) if you wanna see what kind of crazy stuff I read, go for it. I leave reviews on almost everything I read. **** www . Goodreads CrystalLeeAuthor**

**Also, I've been considering pulling down my science fiction romance series off Amazon since I'm not really getting very many reviews or likes or anything like that, and lately, been getting negative reviews on some of my stories. And I refuse to ask people to review or "like" something they haven't read. If you want any of my stories for free, just email me, and I'll send them to you, free of charge, crystalsgarden gmail . com. Clarify in the email which stories you want, and if you want it as pdf or epub. You've all been so supportive, and I owe you all so much, so I'm happy to give my stuff away to you. (Remember if fan fic messes up these links, I've put them in my profile).**

**Because of these issues with my published stories, I'm going to be posting some of them I would've published, but they'll now be on this fan fic account. Started posting what would've been book 4 and 5 from **_**Canopy**_ **series (I'm meshing them together). You may have noticed my new story, **_**DOOGS, **_**this is it. I'm posting them here because book 4 is fairly steamy. Months ago, my dad read the first chapter (now posted as first 3 chapters) and he was livid with me. Sending me all sorts of scathing emails about it for over a week. If you like romance with a scifi background and wanna see what had my dad in a tizzy, go check it out.**

**I'm warning you now, it's a controversial story, so if you're fairly conservative and religious, you probably won't like it since it's basically a mixed up tale of the Creation. Yes, it's strictly a BxE story, and in the beginning they're with other people, so it's not exactly wuss-perv friendly at the start, but I don't show graphic lemons of either of them being with others. I do promise a very satisfying HEA for them. Here's the extended summary so you can see if you're interested in my story, **_**DOOGS**_**:**

**Cancer kills, but so can overwhelming desires to cure the world of it. Doctor Edward Cullen, a brilliant pulmonologist, is pulled into a conspiracy involving the possible eradication of all disease, including dreaded cancer. Ten colonists return from the planet Deluvia with physical changes, defying explanations. While these people toiled away, making the planet inhabitable for other humans, they unwittingly inhaled gnats, changing their physical makeup. This miracle cure he wants, means fighting society and assassins. It also means fighting his urges to be with the one woman that knows all the secrets of the DOOGS. What will he do to have both?**

**There you go. I'll probably update that one once a week, like I do this one. **_**Just an Hour **_**updates each Wednesday. I may update **_**DOOGS **_**on Mondays. Haven't picked a day yet for that one. And I've been asked by several people if they have to read the first 2 published stories in my **_**Canopy**_ **series in order for **_**DOOGS**_ **to make sense. No, you don't. Actually, it's the back-story for **_**Canopy**_**, so you're getting filled in on the holes that people don't have yet that have read my published ones. You can also read them simultaneously as well. **

**Thank you!**

**Scarlett**


	10. Chapter 10

**Chapter 10**

"Melissa, it's time for you to move on," Edward began.

She stiffened and her face dropped.

"I can see you disagree with this decision. You have my permission to speak freely, but I expect you to be respectful. Use your training."

Her lips trembled. "But why, Master Edward?"

"You're done with your training, and I have a few different Doms asking about you." He kept a good foot of distance between them.

Tears rolled down her cheeks.

He pulled her into him. "I know it's hard to move on sometimes, but you're so ready to please a master of your choosing. You've been a terrific trainee, and I treasured the time we were able to spend together." He stroked her hair, and she sniffed then her spine went rigid.

"This sub isn't ready to move on yet," she whispered.

"You are. I'm the trainer, and I say you've completed all the training."

She pulled her cheek off his chest and stared into his blue eyes. He blinked and smiled back. His fingers carefully tucked her hair behind her ears. "Such a good girl," he said. He cupped her chin.

She exhaled, her shoulders rounded and her hands cupped his chest like she was trying to cling to him for as long as she could.

"Did this sub do something wrong? Master Jasper said last weekend this sub still had a lot to learn," she said.

Just then, her head turned, and she scowled at somebody.

Edward turned them both around, only to find a Bella, dressed all in black, but not quite looking like she belonged here in this establishment. An uncomfortable stiffness radiated off her every pore.

"Sir, can I speak with you?" Bella asked, her eyes immediately on the floor and her hands clasped before her, almost tucked between her inner thighs.

"A moment, please," he told Bella.

Bella shifted her weight and though she kept her head down, he could tell she was trying to get a good look at Melissa.

Oh fuck. What was she doing here on her own? And why hadn't she told him she was going to be here tonight?

He growled in her general direction.

Bella stepped back and her chin deepened its bend toward her chest.

He swung Melissa around so she wouldn't be distracted. "Okay, deep breath. Repeat after me . . ."

Melissa sucked in a tight breath, and her eyes were filled with tears. She nodded, but barely.

"I am a beautiful woman, and my gift to my master is my subservience."

"This girl is. . . a beautiful woman, and her gift . . ." she took a stuttering breath, and sounded on the verge of sobbing ". . . to _her_ master is her subservience." She knew the rest of the recitation, since Edward had each of his subs say this mantra when he released them over to the club. So, she went ahead and said the rest, "She willingly gives her mind, her body, her obedience. She will strive to ever please him as he takes care of her needs." She sunk to her knees and bowed her head, tucking her hands in her lap.

He stroked his hand through her hair, smiling. "You were supposed to wait for me to say the rest, but since I know you're frustrated, I'll let it go . . ."

Bella's breath hitched behind him.

He motioned for one of the other trainers, Master Carlisle, to help Melissa mingle tonight. She'd need someone she could trust at her side as she braved her way through the club, and she'd played with Carlisle a few times. They seemed to get along well.

"Master Carlisle, Melissa's ready to leave my side now." He handed Carlisle her cuffs. "Will you please make sure she's well taken care of, and she's able to speak to these three Doms tonight that have asked about her?" He pulled out a small slip of paper with three names on it.

"I will, Master Edward. I'm happy to help out, and Melissa's a well-trained sub, so she's always a pleasure to be around." Carlisle crouched down and touched her shoulder. "Come with me."

Melissa rose with grace even though it was clear she was unhappy with this change in plans.

When Edward turned toward Bella, she was hunched over, biting her thumb nail and shaking so bad, she looked like she might fall over.

"Isabella," he said, approaching her, his hand extended. "Is there a reason you failed to tell me you'd be here tonight? I thought trust was something you and I were working on. This does _not_ build trust."

She put her trembling petite hand in his, and on contact, two things happened.

Her whole body seemed to relax, and she also exploded into a dialog with about a thousand words a minute.

"Edward, I mean, Sir, there's a problem. Do I call you Sir here, or just Edward, or Master Edward?" He blinked and simply smirked at her. She was so damn cute. He leaned his weight back into his heels, let go of her hand and crossed his arms over his chest as she continued to ramble, "I didn't know what to do. I really thought . . . Well, maybe I should've followed. I don't know, but I was thinking . . . Well, you always know what to do in these types of situations, and you're so powerful, and I'm, well . . . _just_ Bella. And I hate admitting this, more than anything, but he scares me, and—"

"_Scares_ you?" he said, his chest tightening and his biceps flexing when his fingers squeezed. "Who scares you? Did somebody approach you already? Dammit, Isabella. This is why you're not supposed to be unaccompanied in the club. When I said the club could help solve some of your issues, I didn't mean for you to—"

She suddenly lurched forward, covered his lips with hers, and absolute dread saturated those pupils as they dilated and turned her eyes to a midnight storm. She pulled away abruptly and whispered, "_Tim_. He's here." She ran her fingertip over his lips and settled there, looking transfixed by his mouth.

Oh God, that did things to him.

He slid her finger off his lips then shook his head. "That's not possible. I made sure he was on the list of banned customers."

"Well he is," she said, swallowing hard. Her hand wrapped around his forearm as a plea for help. "Please, I'm freaking out. He was here with my purse I accidentally left at the restaurant the other night."

"Why didn't you tell me he had it? I would've retrieved it for you, and I would've had fun tearing his dick off in the process." His jaw flexed.

"No, you don't get it . . ." She looked over her shoulder and then leaned further toward him. "Alice wouldn't listen to me. She went to go get it back for me, and I couldn't stop her. She went with him."

"_Fuck_!" he gritted. "Did she leave the club with him?" His eyes slid closed and his jaw felt wired shut, it was so locked in place.

"I'm so, so, sorry, Sir. I've already screwed all this up. I should've gone after them," she said, voice breaking and shattering him inside in so many tiny pieces, he placed his hand over his neck to make sure his pulse was still there.

"No, you shouldn't have. I'm glad you came to get me. That was the right thing to do. Now." He paused, and reached out to stroke her arm, to help soothe her. She was so quick to blame herself for everything. "Do you have any idea of where they might've gone?"

She leaned into his touch and her arm, chilly on contact, warmed instantly. "I think maybe . . . One of the dungeon rooms? But I can't be sure. They didn't leave the club though."

"Okay, let's start there. I'm gonna have you stay with—"

"Don't leave me!" she almost shouted. Her eyes flew open wide, and she suddenly cupped a hand over her mouth. "Sorry."

"Don't apologize. I understand you're worried for your friend, but it's not safe for you to come with me, and I don't know what that man's capable of."

"There's something else," she mumbled, then dropped her hand. "Tim kind of . . . Well, he . . ." She drifted off and her eyes darted around the room.

"You will tell me now, because I need to know," he said, his spine straightening. "And since you asked before, you may call me Sir while we're here in the club."

"Okay, Sir." She sniffed. "I'll tell you . . . He kind of attacked me after work the other day," she confessed, her head dipping down as she swallowed back tears. "And I didn't let him. I defended myself."

"Sssffff," he sucked in as much air as he could before he went off on her for not sharing this with him directly after it happened. He gripped her arm, but was careful not to harm her. "I'm bringing you to Master Jasper. He'll watch out for you while I go deal with this dickhead."

"He's a Dom, not a dickhead," she said. Edward glared her. "He told me he was when he tried to hurt me. He wanted me to prove I was a femdom."

"That man," Edward began, the tendons in his neck very prominent while his teeth were making a sort of hissing noise, "is _not_ a Dom. He's a sadist—pure and simple. A Dom will never do anything without consent. You remember that. There's no pleasure in it for me if you don't want me to do something to you. He takes sick pleasure out of taking what isn't offered freely to him."

She blinked and her lips parted. Her breathing was shallow, and she paled. "He's with her!"

"I know. Let's get you safe then I'll find Alice."

He wrapped an arm around her back, and led her to where Jasper said he would be. This would be tricky. Technically, Alice signed on to begin training with Jasper, and he'd want to go after her to help her himself, but there was no fucking way Edward was going to let anybody other than himself deal with Tim—the fucker that liked to hurt women because he got off on it.

Edward's pace was swift, and Bella kept up successfully, regardless of her footwear.

She actually walked pretty confidently, and he had to wonder if it was because he was guiding her where to go, and because she knew he wouldn't let anything happen to her.

Jasper had said he would be in dungeon room eight. He had planned a scene with his artistic sub for tonight, and that had to be why he let Alice acquaint herself with the club. Surely, he would've left her with another of the trainers to accompany her.

Edward's shoulders were stiff and aching, and he'd barely done a thing tonight other than release Melissa.

When he gave the appropriate knock on the door, Bella tucked her head into his chest like a skittish little animal, worried there might be predators nearby.

"Nobody's going to touch you. I've got you," he reassured her and kissed her head. He ran his hand down the back of her head, and she tilted her head up, looked into his eyes, and he saw gratitude there. He smiled.

She didn't quite smile back, but he could see her thinking it all through. She gave a silent little nod.

When she seemed ready to handle it, he stepped inside the room with her. He walked over to the wall and motioned for her to stay there and remain quiet.

She glued her back up against the smooth, mirrored wall.

Master Jasper was faced away from them, but his sub could see them clearly, or would've if she wasn't so spellbound by what her master was doing.

"That's right—_beautiful_," Jasper cooed. He had his fingers inside her pussy, and he pulled them out slowly. He held his index finger and middle finger stuck together. They glistened with fluids, and when he set them before his subs eyes, and separated his fingers like scissors, the clear fluid fanned out like a web. "This is what we made." His voice was soft, but there was a rough edge of want in it. He dipped his wet fingers into a bowl nearby and mixed it around.

When his fingers reappeared, they were covered in a dark blue paint.

He dragged the color across her naked breasts, down her belly and circled her navel.

There were other lighter colors all over her. He was using her as a canvas.

"This is who you are—a brightly colored prism of joy." Jasper went back for another dip.

Edward made this soft, whisper of a whistle—their signal that something was wrong.

Jasper turned his head and Edward held up his pinky finger. Their sign Jasper's new, little one in training, was in trouble.

After a beat, Jasper's eyes went wide with alarm.

He signaled with his head at his sub.

There was no way he could leave his sub bound and in this deep. She looked on the verge of sub space.

Edward stopped breathing, racked his brain over what he should do. He stared, unseeing at the wall.

A moment later, he motioned for Bella to join him, and once she was at his side, he knew where she had to go.

They slipped like ghosts back out the door, and Bella seemed hyper-aware of everything. Each brush of his skin, made her jerk and curl in on herself.

Did that little scene scare her? Shit! This wasn't going how he'd hoped for her first time here.

He walked with a longer stride. Alice could be in a lot of trouble right now.

On the way to his destination, he found two of the dungeon masters and told them to look for Alice. They left in a hurry, but his gut cinched down, telling him to get there before they kicked Tim out. He wanted to see to him personally.

When they got out to the large scening area, Rose was set up and about to begin her demonstration.

As they approached, Rose's eyes grew large. "There you are!" she said to Bella.

"Mistress, I have no time to explain, but I need you to keep an eye on my pet for a few moments until I can get another Dom over here to accompany her, can you do that?" Edward asked her.

Bella stiffened in his hold. He helped her into a chair at the very front of Rose's stage. The table was unoccupied, most likely because people didn't know Mistress Rose yet.

This was a disaster. Edward was supposed to announce her as the new Domme in the club.

Rose limped for a moment as she flew over to Bella's side.

Emmett was missing. Fuck it all! He really should cancel this scene, have Emmett help him take care of the Tim situation.

Instead, he walked over to her staging area, and turned on the mic. He announced, "We'd like to welcome all our new patrons here tonight, and their guests here to observe and get acquainted with our club. We value our members, and try to show it by keeping things fresh. So, to say thank you, we have a special treat tonight for you. Just an Hour has taken on our first female Domme, and she's preparing to share some of her knowledge with you. If you'd like to see what she has to offer as a trainer here, please join her audience at the north end of the public play area. Drinks will be served during, but remember—two drink minimum. Enjoy our very own Mistress Rose."

A few people began immediately making their way over to the area. Without thinking about what he was doing, he walked over to Bella and pulled her dark blouse up, so it covered both her shoulders.

Did they have to be so fucking pale and enticing looking?

Bella blushed a little and dropped her gaze away from him.

"Stay here," he said.

"I will," she responded.

"Sir," he corrected her with a growl.

"Sorry, Sir, I mean, yes, Sir, I'll stay here. Thank you." Her hands were tucked in her lap and she stared at them.

Edward made his way back to Rose, who was now prepping again for her scene. He apologized for throwing that on her in such a regrettable way and explained there was a rather large problem he needed to deal with.

She agreed without saying much, and he took off, found a Dom he trusted to go tend to Bella.

Once that was done, he rushed through the halls and hoped he'd find this asshole before something truly awful happened.

.

.

.

Emmett was occupied; assaulted by women at every turn.

He'd avoided the club for months since it had lost its appeal to him, and now they were throwing themselves at him.

Amber fell at his feet just as he was heading over to the Liberator corner, where he was supposed to scene with Rose in the next ten minutes. "Oh, my God! Master Emmett! Please, may I have permission to speak?" She looked up at him through her lashes and squealed as her bum hopped a little on her heels. Her face lit up.

He'd started out as her trainer, but then when he kind of faded from the scene, she'd called him up.

A sliver of guilt hit him. He remembered how he'd told her maybe they could be friends, but nothing more.

She never called back.

Tonight she was dressed in a lethal combination of a cream colored lacy thong and matching corset with a shelf bra. Her breasts were heaving at him.

The pasties she tacked on barely covered her protruding, erect nipples.

Her shoulders were covered with a sparkling dust and her makeup was flawless.

She had delicate porcelain skin, straight teeth and kissable lips; cock-traps. They used to suck him right in every time, and she was a great deep-throat, but fuck if he was anything but interested at all. With all that before him, and nothing sparked. Nothing at all.

"I'm sorry, Amber, but I'm not a trainer anymore. I'm a sub, and my Mistress is waiting for me," he tried to explain. "Please stand up and enjoy your evening here."

"Please, Master Emmett, I'm free now. Master Daniel moved a week ago, and I'm here tonight to see if I can find a new master.

He smiled to be polite, helped her stand up, but when he tried to explain once more his Mistress was waiting, she ignored his words again and grinned back like she was mistaking his cues as sheer pleasure in seeing her. Did she think he'd come back here for her?

"You may do your worst. This sub has trained for months, and can handle anything. This sub hopes very much to be your permanent submissive," she said, lowering herself to kneeling before him once more.

Shit! He was expecting Rose might figure out tonight he was a part owner of this establishment and former training Dom, but not within less than a half hour of opening and with a former sub at his feet. It was obvious she never read the note he attached to his flowers he'd left for her at her door. He kept meaning to talk to her about it, but dammit, she'd touch him and it was like every thought in his head dissipated. There was something about those fingers on his body that made him come undone.

"Stand up, Amber. I'm _not _a Dom, and I'm most certainly unavailable."

Amber stood up yet again with his help, and her shamefaced expression framed by her pale hair around her face, made him frown. He wanted to help her find a new master, help her be happy, but he had to get to his Mistress right away. When he glanced at Amber before he prepared to leave, her eyes were misted over and her lips trembled with pain.

"Oh, darling girl, I'm not right for you. I never was. You feel attached because I brought you in and prepared you for others, that's all," he said. Then he kissed her lips and brushed his thumb across the bottom sparkling one, jutting out.

Her gloss was unmarred by his delicate velvet kiss.

_Click, click, click!_

A woman in heels was most definitely headed this way.

He turned to see his Mistress barreling toward them.

"Amber, please find another Dom to escort you. I have to go." He patted her head and ran toward Rose.

The second he was within death-glare distance, he threw himself at her feet.

"I'm ready, Mistress. Sorry to keep you waiting, and this submissive, plans to make you proud tonight," he said, chin folded into his chest.

Her right stiletto tapped hard on the buffed, concrete flooring.

"We have a scene to do. No more talking to anybody at all until I tell you otherwise. Meet me at the Esse in two minutes. If you're late, I'll have to vary the plan," she said then nodded a small acknowledgment over at a gaping Amber.

As Mistress stepped away from him and turned to go back to their scening area, he noticed a slight limp in her walk. Rose's right leg was dragging somewhat.

Was she okay? Had she twisted her ankle when she marched over to him so fast?

He didn't ever see her wobble when he was watching her in those few short moments, but now . . . It was clear she was hiding some injury.

He ran after her, trying to avoid eye contact with anybody in the club at all. If one more woman approached him . . . Rose would shove her heel up his ass, and though it might be fun if she got him ready for it first, it might not be as pleasant tomorrow when he needed to move around or sit at work.

He took his spot at the Esse, and his eyes traveled along with her every move. It was in his training to study his sub for possible injury or anticipate harm. Something was wrong here. Rose was off with each move.

She stumbled about; tried to hide it unsuccessfully. To others, it might not be apparent, but he knew her walk better than anybody's. It made him hard when he watched her tight ass sway around her house. Her shoulders were always flung back, and her breasts perky and up in the air. Right now, she was a little hunched over, and it wasn't for lack of confidence or nerves. Or at least it didn't seem like it. She was kind of smiling, looking like she was in her element.

She leaned over to fiddle with something in her black duffel bag, and that's when he saw it.

Rose stood up and brushed a few stray hairs out of her face, and his eyes rounded on her when he spotted a small gash on her right palm and scabs from what looked like a scrape on her right inner elbow.

She was wearing black tights, and he wondered if her legs were even more beat up than these areas.

His eyes narrowed. "What the hell?" he blurted. He popped up off the sex furniture and set his hand on her lower back. Her back tensed, and she turned like she was on a pivot.

"Is there a reason my sub is being so flagrantly disobedient? I told you to sit on the Esse." Her blue eyes were like flames of vengeance, ready to consume him.

"You're hurt, Mistress. May I speak to you about my concerns?"

"Yes, you may."

"We should cancel." He swallowed.

"My sexy beast, your job is not to make these decisions. Your job is to please me. Nothing more. I worry about the rest of the details."

"But I . . . I can't enjoy this at all if you're hurting." His lips twitched. He wanted to kiss each of her wounds and wrap her up in his strong warm arms. He felt sick to his stomach to think about her feeling a twinge of pain at all.

She blinked, her lips tried to hide a smile as she pressed her lips together for a moment. "Fuck you and those hot dimples."

"I'm not smiling," he said. In fact, his gut was twisted worse as he continued to worry and wonder how she got so banged up.

"I'm not referring to those," she said, brushing a fingertip across the spot they appeared on his face. "I'm talking about these." She reached behind him, and pressed into one of his ass dimples.

"Can you tell me how you got hurt at least? Please, Mistress. I won't be able to concentrate on what we're doing otherwise," he said, undeterred.

"Not right now." She motioned over her shoulder with her head. "We have an audience."

"I don't give a fuck," he growled. "I care about Mistress. Nothing else."

She pushed on his chest, backed him up to the Esse, and called out, "Thank you for coming." Her eyes went out to the members and their guests, watching her. She chuckled at what was probably her realization she had used an unintended innuendo. "I hope I can share with you some of the things I take pride in as a Domme. And I'd like you all to know, you're not to address my submissive." She leaned toward Emmett. "You may speak to me, but no one else for the duration of our scene."

He nodded.

Without another word, he was stomach down on the Esse with the scoop filling in the dip so he could rest his chest on it. She had his arms strapped down before he could question her again on her health.

"This area is called the Liberator corner. Liberator makes some wonderful sex furniture, but the Esse is my favorite because of its versatility," she said. Rose ran her hand over the suede texture of the Esse's tan cover. Her hand drifted right before his eyes. His cock twitched with anticipation. She dragged her fingers up his spread out arms. Her hand skimmed over his shoulder and stopped shy of one of his dimples she'd referred to moments ago.

A finger slid under the waistband of his dark jeans. That was the clothing she specified for him, and of course, no underwear beneath it.

"Of course, you can leave your sub dressed if you want, but I prefer contact with skin." Her hand slid under his stomach, she popped open the buttons on his fly one at a time, and he had to bite back a groan.

Once she had his pants sufficiently loosened, she slid them down his hips, past his ass and off his legs.

A chill ran down his hamstrings when she blew across his legs as she stood back up with his pants in-hand.

"Very nice," she said and patted his ass.

"Thank you," he whispered.

She pinched his ass, and he bucked instinctively.

Rose propped her right heel up on the back of the Esse, an inch next to his hip, and he strained to look back and see what she was doing.

"Tonight I'm going to show you how to milk a prostrate effectively and force an ejaculation without an orgasm," she explained to the audience.

Emmett scowled. "No orgasm, Mistress?"

"None." She turned her attention back to the room. "The trick to this, is you have to make sure your submissive's stomach is at the highest arch."

His torso hugged the dip in the middle.

"Comfortable?" she whispered to him and kissed his cheek.

He smiled.

"That's my brave sub," she said and dragged her fingers down his back.

Her hands were always so soft and warm. It quelled any fears inside him.

"Now for the legs. We don't want a sub to flail around and accidentally knock a Domme's teeth out." She released his arms and repositioned them then looped the rope through the D rings, and criss crossed it over his back. She tucked his arms at his sides, and then looped it lastly across the dimples above his ass. "As you can see—I've changed the position of his arms. I don't want them to go numb, and stretched out like they were, they'd most likely get sore pretty quickly. Now I've got him in a more natural, resting position. They can stay at his sides indefinitely." She ran a finger under the ropes and checked to make sure it wasn't too snug. Once that was done, she had him spread his legs and she secured those to the furniture as well.

His back arched naturally in this position, but he found himself exaggerating it so his ass would there for her and garner her attention.

_I want to please you . . . Make you proud, Mistress._

A thrill chased down his spine at this thought.

Rose leaned over and pressed her tongue into each dimple above his ass and she blew across those too, making goose bumps rise.

He chuckled, and squirmed a little.

"Of course, administering a swat in this position works well too." Her hands caressed his ass, kneaded his skin until he was so relaxed, and then . . .

_Smack, smack!_

They were light, playful stings. Nothing major.

Emmett wiggled yet again. There just enough give in the soft ropes, it felt like it kissed his skin with each movement.

Fuck. His eyes glazed over and his breathing slowed and deepened.

His ass thrust itself up, even though his cock wanted to drive into something; anything.

"My beast loves a good spanking," she cooed. She tickled and scratched at his cheeks until he was purring inside.

A few moments later, and she was over at her black bag. She pulled out a flogger, and explained something about how to use it correctly.

He couldn't hear her anymore. His eyes drifted about aimlessly.

Bella was in front of the group of onlookers, sitting at a table with a blonde Dom at her right, and looked concerned.

Then Emmett's eyes got heavy . . .

"Oh God!" he moaned as something flicked at his ass. Flashes of heat raced down his legs.

Amber grinned at him from her seat out in the audience.

He barely registered who she was.

Rose had his full attention as she did incredible things to his body. Each touch of the flogger sent him a little higher. His eyes slid up in his head, his neck stretched and tipped back as another soft raining blow landed on his cheeks.

"When the skin's heated, pinked sufficiently, you can then use other implements," he heard Rose say.

He snuggled his chest down into the cushion. A humming sensation built in his heart and thrummed with a steady rhythm; his head clouded.

A rush of air swept above his lower back, and he thought she might be showing the crowd her next tool.

There were whispers and a few women even sounded aroused as they gasped.

"Nnnnnnuuuuugg-nnnghhh," he grunted as something harder, something better, stung his butt.

"Oh, such a good boy. Mistress is very pleased," Rose cooed.

Everything was white. Everything was warm, liquid joy.

Her warm hands kneaded his ass and the backs of his thighs.

_Shraaaaaap!_

"Mmmmm!" he moaned, but it died off quickly then morphed into a "_Mooore_, oh please, God more!" He was panting, out of breath, rubbing his whole body on the soft cloud he clung to. His fists balled and scrunched up under the ropes as he strained to feel more. Tingles flooded his gut and slipped down to his groin, settling there.

Something wet slid between his cheeks.

"Oh, he's so relaxed, there's barely any effort at all to get my fingers inside him," she shared with the crowd.

He sighed, and relaxed even further. Spongy joints spread, and his mouth watered as something probed deeper into his anus.

Suddenly, his dick was blasting a hole into the stuffing. His hands ached to grab onto the edges of anything at all.

"Ready? Safe word's red—you remember that?"

"Mmm," he grunted.

"Always remind your sub of their safeword before pushing them further," she told her observers. "Time to fly, my beautiful man. And you're gonna do it with my fingers inside you."

Oh, Gaaaawd . . .

His crack burned, and the opening felt like it was being sliced open, but it translated over into exactly what his body wanted. Each muscle in his chest constricted, his feet stretched up on tiptoes, reaching higher, higher, higher . . .

"_Iiiiiihhhhhhiiiiihhhhhiiiiii hhhh_," a high pitched noise rose out of his chest as his entire body sang, rocked back and forth and he saw streaks of dark shadows pass him by. "Oh, ohhhhhh, mmmmmyyyyGod!" suddenly ripped out of him.

His shoulder blades pulled together, and the ropes pulled the opposite direction, forcing him to take something cold and round inside him. It probed and was hard, unforgiving as it pressed into a spot inside about to explode. The tip of his dick was moist, but Mistress Rose had yet to touch him there.

He closed his eyes, his lips parted and nothing mattered anymore.

Drool rolled out of his mouth.

He tried to suck it back in, but his tongue wasn't working properly. It was heavy, and lolling out of his mouth.

His head tingled, and right as he thought he might drift away, something inside him snapped, shooting a jab of electricity up his thighs while simultaneously, the same thing happened at the small of his back, and it all broke apart at the tip of his cock.

"That's it, give it all to your Mistress . . ."

The cool, hard thing in his ass was gone. There was a warm wave, happening inside him, instead.

"You have to caress the spot. Once it's juicy and swollen, then you can press harder. See?" Rose said.

His breaths were ragged, choppy, and his dick pulsed violently, but it was still hard.

"No orgasm, but look at how wet my palm is," she exclaimed. "God, have you ever seen anything sexier in your life?" Something heavy settled on the middle of his back, but . . .

The white . . . The waves . . .

He rocked. His ass cheeks were so warm. Was he sitting on the beach and forgot his towel and trunks again?

His head tipped back, and the sun shined down on him. He soaked it up, reveled in how it penetrated his pores and brought life into his soul.

". . . was twice, yes, and thank you. It's the power-G probe. Good question, you'll find that . . ."

The waves traveled up his toes, consumed his legs, and the warm sand encircled his waist, burying him slightly into the beach. He blinked and wiggled his fingers over the top of the foamy surf rushing around him.

"Once more," a soft, tinkling voice said.

And oh . . . The sun's rays carried him out into the ocean, and he rested on top of the waves for several minutes. The breeze on his back was nice, and even though his face was submerged in the water, he could breathe if he needed to. He turned his head to the side, and it was even better.

A curl of the water rose over his shoulders, and cupped his right one tight enough it rode him to the crest of a big wave.

His abs tightened, he took a deep breath and . . . "Ffffffffffohhhhhh, ffffoooohhhhhhh, ahhhhhhh!" he screamed in euphoria as he was jettisoned faster than he thought was possible. And when he landed in a soft heap, his head never felt so light and free.

"Emmett . . . I need you back with me," Rose said, her kiss landing on the corner of his mouth.

His eyes opened a crack, and her soft smile welcomed him.

"Have a good time?" she asked.

"I . . . Shhhh . . . Tried t-to have a . . ." His lips were rubber, and his spine had dissolved in that ocean he left behind, because he couldn't move. His whole body tingled, and his legs weren't numb, but they were weak.

"If you want to ask a few question later, please feel free," she announced. "I'll be around in the club when my sub feels up to moving around again."

She rubbed along his lower back and then pressure was released, making his skin spark with heat.

Her hands massaged vigorously. She did the same for the other areas where he'd been restrained.

A kiss would follow as well.

Rose pulled a blanket out of her bag, wrapped it around Emmett before she helped him stand up.

His dick was no longer hard, and his neck failed to support him as his head felt heavy and lolled forward.

She made sure he was decent—the blanket keeping him covered.

"I thought you said you weren't going to let him come?" Amber asked.

"I did say that, but I had to reward my pet, didn't I? He went into sub space so easily and trusted me so implicitly; it was my honor to stroke his shaft at the end and complete the cycle. It's not always necessary or desirable to have a full orgasm, but I showed twice how I could milk his prostate without him having a full orgasm. It's amazing how resilient and powerful that G-spot is." Rose beamed at him, kissed his temple and wrapped an arm around his back. "Now, if you'll excuse me." She yelled out to the crowd. "Thank you all for coming, but I need to attend to my sub. Enjoy your evening."

His head buzzed off the sensation of her breath on his face in that one tiny moment, so much that he stepped back and almost fell.

Rose led him over to the recovery area, and sat him down on the comfy couch. She somehow slipped her body in behind him so she was trapped up against the cushion.

"Lean your head back into me," she said.

Her palm wrapped around his forehead and she guided him back.

"Do you know how amazing you were tonight? How proud I was to be a part of that? You amaze me," she said, her voice shaky with thick emotions. "It was beautiful. _You're_ beautiful—fucking perfect." She paused and took a deep breath. Her arms moved past his face quickly as she retreated her hands, bringing them toward her own face, and he could tell she was swiping away tears. "I'll never forget this night. Never!"

He sighed a deep, heavy groan then went raspy all of a sudden as his heart swelled. "Neither will I. That was the most incredible thing I've ever experienced."

"Fuck, you have no idea how sexy that was, seeing your face like that. You adjusted to all the extreme things I did to your ass so quickly, and then you slipped straight into space, I almost didn't recognize it at first, until I swatted you and you didn't even move. I thought maybe I'd hurt you too much, but then you mumbled something about the ocean."

"I was at the beach, sitting on sand with my bare ass, then a wave swept me out, and I hung out for a while as I bobbed along. It was comfortable then things got intense. A massive wave took me back to shore." He yawned and closed his eyes. His skin kept tingling, and he settled into his Mistress, wrapped around him like this blanket.

"Wow," she whispered. Her hands drifted through his hair. "I can't believe it."

He drifted off, almost asleep when he heard something shuffle toward them.

One groggy eye opened.

Blonde hair, not his Mistresses, appeared before him. Somebody was leaning over, their breasts almost in his lap.

"Oh, I love watching him when he's like this," Amber said.

Rose covered up his bare shoulders with the blanket and stroked down his arms. His head was heavy against her. He should say something, but the words wouldn't come. A weight was in his throat, cutting off the motion needed for speech. He sucked in some air, but it didn't help. His hands flopped inside the blanket as he tried to reach for Rose's comforting fingers.

"You mean you love seeing him like this _right now_," Rose corrected. "And you shouldn't be back here." She wondered where her Dom was, letting this sub be all mouthy and roam around, getting in the way.

"Oh, maybe he didn't tell you. I used to be Master Emmett's sub back when he first opened the club with Master Jasper and Master Edward five years ago. He used to look like this all the time when he'd fuck my face and come so hard he could barely stand after. He's my favorite owner, and the best master ever," Amber said. Then she ghosted her fingers over his cheek. "I'm Amber. And I'm signing up to be on his wait list when he starts taking on subs again."

Rose gripped Amber's fingers and squeezed, removing them off his face. "Thanks. I'll pass that info along when he's not high from _my_ fucking fingers," she snarled.

Amber yanked her hand away then left in a hurry.

"Is there something my beast needs to tell me?" Rose gritted.

He swallowed. "Uhh . . . the note was with the flowers," he managed to choke out.

A Dom dressed in thick black jeans, a crisp black button up and Doc Martens, jogged over to them, and took a breath as he bent over at the waist and set his hands on his knees to brace himself. He was out of breath and appeared to be struggling to find his thoughts. "Master Emmett," he began. "We've got a shit-load of trouble. Alice is . . . Well, it's bad! Master Edward and Master Jasper told me to send for you right away. The police are on their way . . ."

**A/N:**

**I don't do this very often, but this chapter most definitely was written to a song: Say When by the Fray. Great tune. I highly suggest looking it up if you've never heard it before. I may have to create a playlist for this story. It's a very moody little bitch at times, so I need to have the right song to get the mood right so it doesn't stress me out and put me on my knees.**

**Thank you to my pre-readers. This story has quickly become one of my most frightening and most exhilarating projects. Why, you might ask? Well, because with science fiction, there are no rules. With contemporary romance, again, depending on the background of it, it's kind of up to me to decide where it'll go. Historical fiction is scary too, but not to this extent. But this world—there are rules. There are nuances there that can't be faked. It has to be done correctly, because I respect this lifestyle choice so much I don't want to mess up my portrayal of it. Thank goodness I have amazing pre-readers and have the opportunity to get insider info from a Dom/sub couple. I can't even begin to explain how amazing the interchanges have been so far. Breathtaking and mind-bending doesn't even begin to describe it. My word—if I survive this without imploding, it'll be a miracle. But if I go, I do it with a broad smile, a keener understanding and a hope that maybe somebody enjoyed reading this. And just maybe they learned more about this beautiful world that holds colors my eyes didn't even recognize a few short months ago before I began learning more.**

**How's that for lacking words for how much this touches my heart and soul? The misconceptions on what it means to be in a committed Dom/sub relationship are staggering, and I'm glad I'm not in that camp anymore. I envy the purity, the passion, and the absolute surrender…**

**Chanse**


	11. Chapter 11

**A/N: WARNING: There is sexual assault mentioned in this chapter, and it could be disturbing to readers. There are no graphic depictions, but it is discussed in some details. If you'd like to, you can skip this chapter and wait until the next to pick back up with the reading.**

**Chapter 11**

"Are you sure you can stand?" Rose asked Emmett.

He nodded. She took a breath.

He seemed unsteady, and she was uncertain if he was completely back down on earth after the way he was floating.

"_Mr._?" Rose paused. That had come out very clipped sounding, like her lawyer voice she used at work with stubborn clients. She took a deep breath. When he waited for her to continue, she gave him a look that said she expected him to share his name. She didn't know this Dom, standing before them.

"Jason Miller," he introduced himself. A look of apology crossed his features.

"Well, Mr. Miller, do you think you could help my sub to his feet?" she asked since she was trapped under Emmett's body weight.

He extended a hand and gently maneuvered Emmett to his feet.

She waited to see if Emmett would sway or not. He didn't, but he rubbed his eyes.

Shit! He was still naked under this blanket, and they needed to go deal with this situation with Alice.

What had that crazy friend of hers gone and done now? Nobody was more reckless than her.

"Can you retrieve my duffel bag from the area we just held our scene? I've got his pants in there," Rose asked Mr. Miller.

He nodded and ran off after it.

"We need to get you a bottled water out of there as well. I meant to drag that thing over here with us. I had a snack and everything in there for you." She rubbed Emmett's back.

He turned and collapsed into her. His whole body shook as he took in gobs of air and thanked her.

"You don't have to thank me. I probably got way more out of that experience than you did," she said, chuckling. She tucked her chin into his shoulder.

He hunched over more, and overwhelmed her with his weight. In her heels, it was a little nerve racking to try to support him this way.

"I know you're not really ready to rejoin the real world yet, and I hate to cut this short, but I'll go help Edward. You rest. Stay here, and when you think you want to go, I'll drive you back to my place. I want you to stay with me tonight," she said. Her eyes pleaded with him to accept all of this without a fuss.

"Can't I go with you, Mistress? I'm one of the owners, and don't you think the police might want to hear from me as well?"

Her insides flooded with relief. Just because there was a crisis, he didn't revert to what he knew best—being a Dom. He was deferring to her, asking for guidance, and there was no possible way to contain all the feelings of peace, love, and joy, that overflowed in her heart. Her face contorted as if being tortured with too much of a good thing.

She cupped his cheek. "Of course you can, and you're right. I'm sure they'd want to hear from you, but I'd like to do most of the talking. If they even try to do anything stupid, I'll have a lawsuit slapped on them so fast, they won't know what hit them." She smiled.

"That's my Mistress—always going for the jugular."

"That's why I'm a good lawyer," she said, smiling.

"No, that's why you're a fucking amazing lawyer!" He chuckled.

Mr. Miller handed the bag to her. She pulled out Emmett's pants and as she leaned over to help him put them on while he kept hold of the blanket around himself, he suddenly let it drop.

Her eyes popped open. Wasn't he embarrassed to expose himself this way?

"Like something you see, Mistress?" he teased.

She yanked his pants up quick and her face heated. "You know I do, and now a few other women here have seen it too."

"I'm not ashamed of my body."

"For a good reason," she murmured under her breath. He had the most well-built body she'd ever seen. The man could do porn without a problem.

She snapped his pants in place for him then reached in her bag and pulled on her blouse then skirt she'd worn at work today over what she was wearing. Her hands wanted to rest on his abs, soak up his heat and goodness, but they had to find out what was going on.

Mr. Miller led them to a dungeon room, and Alice was in Jasper's arms, unconscious. There were vicious lash marks all across her body from her breasts to above her knees, and a few of them looked like they'd been bleeding.

"What the hell is going on?" Rose gasped.

"We had a sadist in the club—apparently he thinks he did nothing wrong, and that Alice agreed to all of this," Jasper said as he rocked Alice back and forth.

"Who called the cops?" Emmett asked.

"One of the dungeon masters. He saw what that man was doing, and before stopping him, since he could tell this guy would be trouble, he—"

Alice groaned and her face scrunched up, then she suddenly flew in to hysterics, screaming in terror.

"It's okay—I've got you. Jasper's here," he said in a soothing low tone, kissing her forehead.

Alice went limp but whimpered in her sleep, or whatever state she was in.

"We need to get her to the hospital," Rose said.

"I've already called for an ambulance. I'm going to head over with her. I'll take her home with me tonight," Jasper said. He sniffed and stared at Alice like he was more broken than she was. Rose didn't know this Dom very well, but she could almost feel his compassion oozing out of his pores and filling the room up. "Such a strong, wonderful woman." He whispered something in Alice's ear and a tear slipped out of his right eye.

"Where's this asshole? We'll deal with him," Rose said.

"He's out front with Edward—waiting for the cops. They went out back so the entire club didn't have to witness this." Jasper tucked the top of Alice's head under his chin. "Can you go check if he needs anything?"

"Is he alone?" Emmett asked.

"Yeah, as far as I know. It all happened so quick. I sent my sub home; she was crying so bad when she heard what happened to Alice. I don't think she'll be coming back here. She's heard of other subs being attacked before like this, and I think she's worried once she finishes up her training . . . Well, yeah," Jasper drifted off.

"Don't worry about anything but Alice. We'll take care of the rest," Rose said.

Jasper looked up at her with this heartbreaking expression and whispered, "Thank you."

Right when Emmett and Rose were leaving the room, Alice's wails started up again.

Rose's heart dropped to the floor. She had to step over it before she lost it and killed this bastard that hurt her friend. Her emotions switched off, and she went straight into lawyer mode.

"Emmett, if you need to rest, then stay here. Because I don't know if I'll be able to give you the attention you need once we step outback," she warned.

"I'm fine, Mistress. I go where you go," he said.

She wound her arm around his back and stepped with authority through the corridors until he showed her out the back entrance.

Edward was outside with a man whose arms were cuffed behind his back. The stranger's face was shoved up against the brick wall.

Rose doubled her pace.

Edward was hissing something in the man's ear, and he had his full body weight crushing into the douche.

"Get off me, you fucking pussy!" the man screeched.

_Whaaaaam!_

Edward's knee came up and jammed straight into the guy's lower back. He crumpled, and before he fell, Edward's fists were repeatedly bashing the sadist in the head.

"How'd you like a taste of your own treatment of these women? Feels good doesn't it? Beating somebody up when they least expect it? Makes you high, huh? You think they like this?" Edward spat. "It's fuckers like you that give respectable clubs like ours a bad name. Doms do _nothing_ without consent!" He grabbed the guy by the roots and tipped his head back, forcing him to look up in his face. "You're no better than a rapist, you abusive, miserable piece of shit!"

"She's fired, do you hear me? If she tries to press charges, I'll fire her ass!" the man on his knees yelled.

_Smaaack!_

This time it wasn't Edward beating the shit out of him—it was Rose.

"You better get a lawyer better than this bitch you're looking at right now," Rose told Tim. "Edward stand him up. The police will be here any minute. When he tries to spout some shit to them about this being the club's fault, I'll handle it," she said.

Edward nodded, and there was a wicked glint in his eyes. "Sure, no problem." He yanked the man up by the chain between the cuffs. The sadist shrieked like a girl and sucked in some air, but it sounded more like he was slurping soup.

It wasn't until he was upright, Rose knew why he'd sounded that way. Edward had obviously made his mouth bleed. Maybe he knocked a tooth loose? His lip wasn't split, but she could see blood.

She stepped closer to him, so close her body was nestled up against his. "Hi," she said, suddenly digging her claws into his scrotum, and squeezing his testicles so hard he stopped breathing. His eyes flew open and his neck strained away from her.

"Tim, meet Rose. Rose, this is Tim—professional shit-head, pathetic liar with a fake ID, and Alice's former boss," Edward said. He smirked. "You won't have to fire her, 'cause you're gonna lose your business—simple as that. I'll see to it you never flip another house or tell another woman you're a cop."

Edward pulled Tim's wallet out of the douche's pocket and rifled through it, pulling out three fake IDs.

"Those are mine!" Tim cried.

Rose let go of his nuts, patted his face and then stared him in the eyes. "Why? Tim? Huh? Why do you think it makes you the big man to beat up a little harmless girl? What'd she ever do to you?" She wished she had her phone on her so she could record this in case he confessed.

"That slut was beggin' for it. Every day—coming on to me at work. It's disgusting, so I taught her a lesson. She should have some respect for her Dom!" Tim glared at her.

"You. Are. Not. Her. Dom," Rose said. "You're not even a man. You're a dog." She smacked him once more and then took Emmett's hand in hers. She kissed his knuckles.

"What can I do to help, Mistress?" he leaned into her and whispered in her ear before placing a kiss there.

"Nothing. You just be here. I'll take care of you." She turned around and kissed him. Her arms wrapped around the back of his head. His arms looped around her waist.

"Okay." He rubbed noses with her.

She sighed and her eyes were heavy for so many reasons.

_Rrrrrrrrrurrrrow._

A police car pulled up a second later and Rose walked straight over to them.

The minute the first officer exited his vehicle, she shook his hand and introduced herself.

"I'm Officer Flores," he said. He eyed her like he was shocked she was speaking to him, instead of the two men nearby that clearly were not the perpetrator.

"Okay, so what's going on?" the second police officer asked. He was short and round.

The taller, Hispanic officer, Flores, introduced his partner, "This is Officer Morland." He stepped past Rose and went to see to Tim.

"Why don't you come inside and see for yourself?" Rose offered. "This man, Tim, attacked my dear friend, Alice Brandon. He claims it was consensual, but it's clear that's not the case."

"She's lying!" Tim bellowed.

"This man is abusive. I'd already put him on our list of people not allowed inside," Edward said.

"Why's that? Has he caused a problem here before?" Morland asked.

"No, but he's attacked my girlfriend before, and he expressed some interest in this lifestyle, so I put him down on our list of 'DO NOT ALLOW INSIDE.' I had no idea he had fake IDs and our people manning the door, didn't know what he looked like. I was already inside, running the club." Edward handed him the fake IDs and Tim's wallet.

Morland cop pulled out his flashlight and shined it on the IDs. He shook his head in disgust and shot a look over at Tim.

"Okay, whose cuffs are these?" Flores asked.

"_His_," Edward said, motioning at Tim. "He brought those nasty things with him, and used them on Alice. Her wrists are completely shredded." He cleared his throat and his shoulders hunched up. His foot swung out behind him, kicking the brick wall with his heel. It was plain Edward was itching to tear this prick apart vein by vein, hair by hair, and dismantle each organ until he was nothing but a heap of blood and puss.

"We've called 911. An ambulance is on their way, so you might want to go see her inside before they get here," Rose said.

Flores cop took Tim in custody, pulling him along to his car. He frisked him once at the vehicle, read him his Miranda rights and then put him in the back of the car.

Edward showed Morland inside, and once they were in the room with Alice, Jasper sighed in relief.

"Thank God!" Jasper whispered.

There was a bloodied up scratch on Jasper's cheek.

Morland turned to Rose and Emmett, his left brow quirked. "What kind of a place is this?"

Emmett stepped forward and started to explain, but then the cop looked at Rose and things shifted.

Morland's spine stiffened, and his jaw tensed.

"Let me see that," he said, putting one palm out and pointing at the fresh scratches on her inner elbow.

"I fell off the treadmill at the gym," she said, her shoulders squaring.

"I don't care. Let me see," the cop insisted.

"No. I don't have to submit any evidence to you, and if you even try to act like I was attacked at this club, I'll get a copy of the report I filed at the gym and glue it to your car out there," she said.

"No need to get huffy. Let me see," he repeated, his fingers cupped and making a come hither motion.

"I said no." Rose stepped back and made sure her wounds were no longer visible.

"This place is . . . _sick_!" Morland pronounced. "How is this even legal?"

"You don't understand," Emmett began.

"Oh, yes, I do. I've heard of clubs like this before," Morland replied.

"Not one of them is like this club, and we hold a strict standard," Emmett argued.

Alice's gut suddenly jerked and she folded in half and screamed like a siren.

Morland jumped and covered his ears.

Jasper ran his hands gently down her arms, leaned in, rocked and comforted her with words nobody else could decipher since Alice was so shrill and overpowering.

When she quieted down, the police man stepped tentatively forward. "I'm going to have to get photographic evidence," he said.

"By all means," Jasper said.

As Officer Morland took pictures, Jasper helped by positioning Alice in certain ways so the angle would reveal as much damage as possible.

"Do you know if he drugged her to knock her out?" the police man asked.

"No. She was coherent when Mr. Miller found her. He turned away for a few seconds to call for your services and when he turned back to deal with Tim, she was out," Jasper explained.

A moment later, paramedics were inside, strapping Alice to a gurney, and rolling her out.

Jasper left with her.

Rose managed to find Bella on her way out the door, and Emmett and Rose were left behind to close things up when the night was over.

If it ever would end.

It was the biggest roller coaster of a night she could have ever endured.

And it wasn't until she was home, cuddled up in bed with her pet, that she felt like things once again made sense . . .

.

.

.

After spending several hours at the hospital with Alice, Jasper finally was in the car, leaving.

Thank God, Tim hadn't raped her, though that seemed a minor consolation after the way he'd savagely brutalized her body.

Jasper could barely contain his fury with himself over this. A few more minutes later, and Tim probably would've had his cock shoved in some orifice of hers.

Alice was awake and coherent, but refused to move or speak and she barely even blinked.

"I'm taking you to my place. You'll stay with me tonight so I can take care of you. Do you want me to stop at your place first so you can get a few things?" he asked.

Silence.

He reached over to stroke her back, but thought better of it. She was slumped up against the door, her forehead resting against the window with her eyes closed. He didn't think she was asleep, but it was hard to tell since he barely knew Alice.

They had spoken a few times over the phone and even less in the club. What he knew of her he really liked.

She was brilliant, vivacious and had this spirit about her that she was unbreakable and up for anything.

Had this asshole done the unthinkable? Broken her?

"Alice? Is it okay if I touch you? I'll be gentle, and move slowly," he said.

She remained motionless and mute, so he refrained from any kind of contact. If she started screaming and thrashing though, he'd have to step in to keep her from hurting herself and giving her a sense of being grounded to something. He'd hold her all night long if that's what she needed.

"Why don't we just go straight to my place, then? If you need something I'll see if I can send somebody to your place to get it," he suggested.

She sniffed, but it was so faint, he wondered if he'd imagined it.

His eyes shifted over to the bag of meds on the ground at her feet.

She refused to take any at the hospital since they'd already shot her up with morphine when she first got there. Her reasoning was she would drive herself home after.

Like hell that would happen. He tried to discuss her options, with that one out of the mix, and she didn't like any of them. She kept saying she wanted to be alone.

Maybe that's why she was mute now. She knew the answer would once again be no.

"I'll make us something to eat, then we'll go to bed. I've already called in sick for work tomorrow, and Rose said she'd make sure that your boss . . ." he paused, making sure not to say Tim's name ". . . knows you won't be in again. _Ever_."

She swiped her tears away silently with the back of her left hand.

"You'll find a better job, sweetheart. I'll help you. Until then, you'll be fine," he said, this time going ahead and reaching out so he could soothe her with his touch.

"I liked that job," she murmured.

"I know you did. You talked about it quite a bit." He caressed the back of her hand she'd just used to wipe the tears away with.

"I'm good at it."

"You're brilliant at it," he agreed.

"And I liked my boss too. How stupid am I?" A fresh batch of tears rolled down her cheeks.

"Not stupid at all. It's hard to spot a sadist if you don't know what you're looking for, and especially if they're trying to conceal it," he offered.

She banged her head lightly into the window, once, twice, and by the third, he pulled over, parked the car and pulled her over into him.

"No more beating yourself up, do you hear? It's not your fault. If it's anybody's fault, it's mine. I didn't know that guy, and I shouldn't have given you the thumbs up to go play with him."

"I can't blame you. I won't," she said, shaking her head. Her fingers barely gripped onto his shirt, she was so weak.

"You don't have to do anything other than stop thinking you deserved it. Nobody deserves that. _Nobody_. And there's no way you could've anticipated."

"I'm the worst sub ever." Her back rounded and she hunched in on herself.

Instead of letting her disappear into herself, he cupped under her chin and lifted her face to his.

"I can feel your pain, all of it. It's so deep, and so powerful. I feel it, Alice. I feel you. Now, I want you to stop sharing it, and just give it all to me. You don't have to carry it. Please let me do this for you."

Her beautiful eyes flooded and then closed; her expression smoothed, removing traces of the anguish there.

"That's it. Listen to my voice." He blew lightly across her nose and lips as his head moved back and forth to the side, subtly. Kind of like a fan. "Listen to what Sir is telling you. It's my burden, not yours anymore. I'm going to carry it for you. You don't have to worry about anything but healing."

"I want to believe you, but I—"

He tipped her head up once more, his hand still cupping her chin. "I know this all new to you, but you know one thing about me. We talked about this before. What is it?" He used a soft, but firm tone.

Her eyes opened, and though they glistened with tears, they were dead.

"That you never lie."

"Never. Not once. Your Dom will never lie to you. So, if I say I can take this away and carry it for you—all the pain, anguish, shame, regret—do you think I'm telling you the truth?"

Her face sagged and she offered half a shrug.

"If I say I'll take care of you, do you believe me?"

Same reaction.

"Is this because I already failed you?"

"No, Sir, I don't mean that," she said, her voice going up in pitch and her spine stiffening.

He reached around with his other hand and stroked her back.

"Explain please, what you did to mean," he said.

"I only meant, I'm a lot to handle—or was before this even happened, and now I'm sure I'll be even worse. Maybe I should forget about the club, and cancel my training contract."

"You'll do no such thing. Alice, I can help you, and I want to. I'm committed to this. Why would you want to deal with this on your own?"

"I don't know." Her eyes shifted down.

"Eyes on mine," he said. "I know you well enough to know you thrive on contact from others, that you're very social. If you do this—you give up with your basic needs, you'll die inside. Slowly, you'll shrivel up, and I can't stand to watch you do that, not when I know what a wonderful, lively spirit you are. Let me help you."

"Like you did in the club after Tim was removed?" She winced.

"I thought you didn't remember that? You said . . ."

More tears from her. "I don't, but Rose told me—she said I'd start to scream out of control, and you'd hold me, say stuff in my ears and you were the only one that could get me to stop. She said she was amazed at how you instinctively knew what to do when you don't even know me that well." She blinked and when the tear made a path to her bottom lip, she sucked it in and cleared it off.

"I did. And I'd do that again every moment of every day for you." He smiled.

"You would? But why?"

"Because you're worth it to me. So, I'm taking you home with me, and when you feel sad, I'll be there with my arms around you. When you need to scream to give your demons to me, I'll allow it, but I'll still keep hold of you. You'll be safer than you've ever been, because I'll die before I let anything like this ever happen to you again." His eyes softened.

Hers looked unfocused.

"He hurt me really bad. What if I need more than you can offer?" Those eyes flooded with tears and she choked back a sob.

"You don't worry about that. If I can't handle it, then I'll know what to do." He pulled her into his chest. "Stay with me tonight. I'll feed you, put you in my clothes and hold you in my bed. And you won't have anything to worry about."

"Yes."

He massaged her shoulders, kissed her head and when she was breathing normally again, he pulled off the side of the road and drove as quickly as he could to get back to his place.

.

.

.

_Bzzzz . . . Bzzzz . . . Bzzzz . . ._

Edward grabbed his phone, answered the call, and before he could say anything, he heard, "Edward . . ." Bella's voice shook.

He blinked and glanced over at his alarm clock. Three in the morning.

"Are you okay?" He propped himself up and leaned his head against the headboard.

He'd driven her home as soon as Tim was removed from the club by the police, and then Edward had stayed for a while to comfort her. She'd refused to talk about it at that point. Was she ready now?

"No . . . I can't sleep. Every single noise in my house is freaking me out. What if it's Tim? He knows where I live," she said.

The cops took him away, but that didn't matter. She was alone and afraid. "You stay there. I don't want you driving when you're nervous like this. I'm coming over. I'll use the same knock I did at the restaurant bathroom door."

"Okay, Sir."

"Do you need me to bring you anything on my way? Coffee? Flapjacks?" he teased.

"No, just hurry. Please, Sir."

"I will." He swung his legs over the side of the bed and started dressing.

"You stay in the living room with a light on, put the TV on so you'll have some noise to distract you. I'll send you a text as soon as I park, so my knock won't scare you. Don't bother to try to look presentable. Whatever you're wearing's fine. I don't want you to fuss about your place either. No cleaning."

"But, Sir, what if I'm naked, and cleaning calms me down?"

"Then you would've already been scrubbing out your stove and rubbing grease off your breasts, wouldn't you have?" He chuckled. "I'm on my way. Ten minutes, and I'll be there."

"Sir?"

He could imagine her biting her lip with those worried, puppy dog eyes.

"Yeah?"

"Thank you. For tonight how you helped my friend, and what you did to that man, and for making sure I was safe while you took care of it. I respect everything you did."

"You're welcome, and I'm sorry you had to see Tim at all."

"I'm not. Not if it meant he got his ass beat down."

He slipped his shoes on and snagged his keys. "He got his balls handed to him too, by Rose."

"Really?"

"Yeah. She can be pretty vicious when somebody messes with her friends." He smiled at the memory of the things he'd said to Tim before Rose and Emmett arrived.

Tim had threatened Bella would be next.

_Not if I break your neck first,_ Edward had said.

And then when Tim had tried to break free and run off, Edward had managed to chase after him and grab him before he was more than a few feet away, tossed him over his back, and slammed his foot onto the asshole's chest.

Tim had sputtered, the wind knocked out of him, but the best part was, he had a second pair of handcuffs on him, that had flown out of his pocket.

Edward's eyes had glinted. Perfect. It was fucking superb to put those shitty traps back on that man, behind his back and then sit on top of him as he listed how many ways Tim was nothing more than a rotten criminal.

When Tim would say something stupid, Edward would push his face into the asphalt. Not enough to leave a mark, because of course he didn't want to get in trouble for this, but Tim deserved to be taught a lesson—_never mess with this Dom, or anybody under his care._

When Edward had heard Rose's heels clicking in the hallway inside, he'd let Tim up and shoved him up against the wall instead. As long as his face was being shoved into something scratchy and unpleasant, then Edward could breathe.

"Did _you_ hurt him, too, Sir? I mean, I don't know . . . I kind of hope you did, but I don't know—if it hurt you, then it's not worth it. He's not worth it . . . You know, because he's such a creep," Bella said, breaking him out of his memory.

"Do you really want to know?" He opened the garage door and was inside his car, starting it up.

"I do. _So_ much . . ."

"Then I'll tell you once I get there. I don't want to scare you worse than you already are."

"Is it that bad?" she asked.

He smiled so wide, he thought his jaw might unhinge. "I'll let you decide . . ."

What he wasn't going to share, was how he figured out a way to start tracing that prick, and following his every move. All he needed was a few hours on his laptop.

.

.

.

"Ahhh, ahhhh, _ahhhhhh_! No! Don't . . . Red, red, _red_! Stop it! Red, you asshole! Don't do that—it hurts!" Alice screamed.

Someone was clawing at her skin, ripping her panties off, and hot breath was at her neck.

It was Tim. The man she thought she knew.

His pants were down. His dick was out, and he had a sleeve over it, to make it bigger.

There were spiky rubber nubs on it, and she was anything but aroused with no lubrication at all, so this was gonna hurt. Bad!

Her nipples burned. He'd rubbed something on them, and the heat intensified with each breath she took.

"Alice, it's me. It's Jasper. I'm here for you, but I've gotta give you your medicine from the hospital. And you've got some wounds I've gotta tend to. I'm going to touch you now, okay?"

"Ack, ack, ack!" she choked as he put something in her mouth. It dissolved quickly, but it tasted like piss.

Her head rammed side to side, but this time, instead of her ears hitting a metal pole she was fastened to, there was a pillow.

"I've got you, sweetheart. Everything's safe for you now . . . Tim's gone. He's not here," a man's voice whispered in her ear.

"It burns, oh shit! Get it off! Get it off! My tits—they're on fire!" she shrieked, and when she tried to get up and run, something held her in place.

Not chains like last time. Those chains had been threaded through the too-tight cuffs, and when she yanked her hands to get free, the cuffs bit into her flesh and made her whimper.

Each noise she made had Tim smiling and stroking himself.

"I'll fix that now. No more burning. This will help. Feel my touch when I put this on . . ." a man's voice said—_not _Tim.

Oh God. Who was he? Was he a friend of Tim's?

Her shirt was being lifted. She tried to push it back down, but her arms were glued to her sides by some unseen force.

"No, no. Be my good girl. Let it stay in place; I'm putting it on now," he said.

Suddenly, something cool and wet was on her chest. It soothed her skin, but her mind exploded.

_He's touching you! He's gonna hurt you more! Make him stop!_

Just as she started to gasp for air, and her chest made this high pitched grating sound, there was a kiss at her temple.

"Okay, I hear you. I hear what he did to you. You're being so brave; such a beautiful, strong girl. It's my pain now. Not yours . . . Let go. Relax into me. Feel my chest against your back. Each time I breathe, you take a breath with me. Okay, ready . . . Now . . ." His chest rounded into her back.

She shook and she was still unsure of where she was, but she didn't know what else to do, so she complied.

"Nice and easy. Gentle breaths. I'm gonna put my palm in the center of your chest, only so you can breathe with me some more. Each time my hand leaves your chest, I want you to pretend there's an invisible string there, and it's attached to your lungs. Your lungs have to follow where my hand goes." His hand did what he said, landing gently in the center of her chest. "Okay, sweetheart. I know you're ready. You can do this. You've given me your pain, now give me your breath."

She nodded a little, but her neck was so stiff, it barely moved.

He kissed her temple once more then as he took a deep breath, he raised his hand at the same time.

It took a second for her to react, but once she did, she felt much better. Her head was clearer. She blinked. She released her nails that had been digging into her palms as she fisted some fabric.

Was it a sheet? It seemed like she was in a bed.

Was it Tim's? Or had he dragged her to another dungeon room with a bed in it?

"Good. So good. You're the best little sub. You know how to make this Dom so happy."

"I _do_?" she breathed.

"You do. Such a courageous woman." He moved his hand up again, his chest filling into her back. "Oh, that's gorgeous—the way you're breathing, responding to me. That's all I can ask for—a good girl that listens so well."

"I can do this," she said, gulping down air, tucking her chin toward her chest. "I can do what Sir asks."

"You can, and you are." He kissed her temple and hummed. "Let's do it a few more times, shall we?"

"Mmm," she whined, but nodded, closing her eyes.

When he loosened his one arm around her, she immediately started choking, clawing at him.

Where was she? Someone was breathing on the back of her neck!

Oh God!

"It's Jasper." He kissed her temple, and left his lips there. "Only your caring, gentle Dom. Nobody else."

"_Jas-per_?"

His arm tightened around her.

"You're holding me?" she asked.

"I am."

"You won't let go?"

"Never. How can I, when you're such an obedient girl, making me proud?"

He had her breathe. Why was he doing that?

She shook—her insides were ice, but other parts of her body were on fire.

"H-h-he huuuurt me," she stammered.

"I know, little one."

"Real bad," she said.

"He did, and it's over now. I'm taking all your pain. All of it." His lips caressed her jaw and when he moved closer, she settled into him.

"It's over?"

"Yes."

"Okay," she said.

After a few more deep breaths, her eyes drifted closed.

Jasper's voice was in her head, his breath on her skin, and some things would never be the same, but she knew she was safe for now. So, she went to sleep.

**A/N:**

**Next chapter is all Edward and Bella, and then we'll get back to seeing where the other two couples are and what they're doing. Hope that doesn't bother anybody.**

**Chanse**


	12. Chapter 12

**Chapter 12**

"Mmm . . ." Bella snuggled into Edward's side.

He pulled her into his chest, and she ran her hand down it.

"Why aren't you sleeping?" he asked.

"Sir . . . I want to, but I . . ." she trailed off.

"When I ask you a question, I expect you to answer it completely and truthfully. Let's try this again—why aren't you sleeping? Are you scared because of what happened with Tim at the club?"

"No."

"Sir," he reminded her.

"Can I ask you something before I call you Sir?" she asked.

"You may." He lightly dropped his chin onto her head and ran circles on her back with his fingers.

She inhaled and exhaled so forcefully, the bed moved a little. "I have a problem, and I don't think you're gonna like it. So, I have to ask, when I'm this tired, but also worked up, is it okay if when I'm in my own goddamn bed, I don't call you Sir?" She sniffed.

He sat her up, turned on the little side table lamp. "What's going on?" He eyed her.

"Nothing. I just . . . I don't want to play these games with you right now," she said, and her eyes shifted to the wall.

"I'm not playing games—never have. And if you think for a second I'm going to allow you put that mask back on that's so thick and scarred, then you don't know me at all." He went onto his knees, and settled his hands on her shoulders. "Look at me."

"This feels like a game." She refused to cast her glance his way.

"Bella . . . I swear to God, I'm not toying with your emotions. What have I done to warrant this reaction? You asked me to get rid of my sub, Melissa, and I did that. You needed to be kept safe tonight, and I've done that."

"She . . . I didn't like seeing her . . ._Sir_," she tacked on at the end, and said it like it was a bullet to his gut.

"Well, I had no control over that, did I? Because one little brunette forgot to let her Dom know she was going to show up after adamantly stating many times she'd rather have a thong shoved completely up her crack and disappear for a week before stepping foot in that place." He shifted forward, tipped her head up to see if she'd look at him.

Her neck flushed.

"Tell me this . . . When you've felt afraid in the past, how did you react? Did you hide under the covers?" he asked, scrutinizing her face for a reaction.

"No. Not exactly. I . . . Well, I masturbated. A lot."

"Because you were turned on from the rush of adrenaline?"

She made a face of distaste and then cut him a look of disapproval. "I don't think so."

"Then what? Share with me, and I'll share something with you," he offered.

"You will?"

"Yes, I most assuredly will."

She blinked and picked at her shirt. "Well, it's the only way I can get my mind to relax, and it's the only distraction that works for me. So, I got myself off a bunch."

He fought off a grin. She really was insightful when she stopped fighting herself and him. "Well, that stops now. You're no longer allowed to masturbate without my permission. All of your orgasms belong to me. They're mine."

Her eyes went wide and her breath came out in a slow hissing sound. "You can't do that, Sir."

"I can, and I have. If you need help with this tonight—you need one to relax—then I'll oblige."

"I wasn't asking you for help. I was kind of thinking maybe I needed a few minutes of privacy so I could take care of myself," she mumbled, ducking her head down. "I didn't realize I was supposed to ask you to touch myself, so I was trying to figure out how to get you to leave the room."

He sighed heavy and low. "So, instead of saying, 'Sir, I don't want you to go home, but is there any way you could go sleep out on the couch,' you decided to pick a fight and try to piss me off? This was your strategy?" His voice was stern, but steady.

"Well, no, I . . ."

"Bella, that's not gonna get you fucked. I know enough about you by now to see when you're being manipulative." She opened her mouth to protest, but he settled his index finger over her lips. "Not on purpose. I'm not saying you even realized you were doing it. But I also know that look you get when you're trying to get a man's attention. You exaggerate your breathing so your breasts stick out; you tip your head down so you look like you're not trying to get their attention. Even though we're already here in your bed, and you were lying down next to me, you still did all those things. Then add in you stroking my chest—yeah, you were trying to push buttons to get me to fuck you. Sorry, I don't operate that way."

She pushed his hand off.

"Thanks, Freud, but that was _not_ what I was trying to do at all." She pulled at her shirt to lengthen it.

"Another distraction?" He tipped her head back up again. "Bella. Lie down."

"I'm not tired anymore, Sir."

"This isn't about sleep."

Her brow creased, and concern filled her eyes. "This isn't punishment either, since we haven't set clear boundaries yet."

"Because you're not my Dom," she repeated.

"I sure as hell am. You agreed to needing my help, and if a title bothers you, then we'll need to figure out how to work around that, but for all the arguing you're doing, and all the resistance, you know deep down inside you're my submissive. We'll work on your acceptance as we go, but for tonight, I'm gonna give you what you need, but not in the way you think you need it," he said.

Her cheeks lifted as her eyes narrowed at the corners. "This makes no sense at all."

He reached out and stroked her cheek. "Let's start with this. You may not want me to say I'm your Dom, or you're my submissive, but you _will_ at least show respect. I want you to say Sir each and every time you address me. Even at work when I call you." He nodded at her.

"Why? How is this helpful?" She frowned.

He growled low in his chest. "If you were a teacher in a classroom and you had a student address you, what would you prefer? Would you want them to call you by your nickname of Bella, or Ms. Swan?"

"Bella," she said too quickly. Her eyes shifted away again.

"Liar. Rule number one, and the most crucial one—you _never_ lie to me. Never. If you do, I'll be forced to punish, and I don't wanna do that to you. I want to show you who you are, and help you." He ran his thumb across the bottom of her chin to get her eyes on his hand. Her gaze predictably followed. "Good girl."

"I'm a woman," she whispered. Her eyes went heavy as his thumb moved up to her lips.

"Not anymore you're not, because you're mine. And in this instant, you feel small—you're hiding. I'm coaxing that little girl out of the covers, and I'm gonna show her the mirror so she can see who she is. For now, I am Sir, and you are my little girl."

"I hate these games," she said. She grabbed his wrist, but she cupped her hand there, supporting his arm, rather than trying to force him to move it. She was obviously very conflicted.

"What kind of games do you like, then?"

"I don't know, but you don't even . . ."

"What is this Dom not providing for you?" he asked, his voice low.

She looked unsettled and shifted a bit. "You don't even kiss me. I need that. I need a man to at least want to do that, otherwise I can't be intimate and share a damn thing with him." Her fingers dug into his wrist. "I need . . ."

"You want to hear me say I love you, and I want you, and to kiss you until you're dizzy?"

She nodded and tears flooded her eyes.

"And you think I should give those away freely without any regard to what I need or want?" he asked.

She blinked hard and slow, those fat tears spilling down her cheeks, almost gutting him. "Do you know how many times a man, _any_ man, has ever told me he loves me? Or that he's proud of me? Or that I do anything right at all?" her voice broke and shook him to the core.

"Tell me." Two simple words that she would obey, or this conversation was going to take a drastic turn.

"I can't. Because there's nothing to tell, Sir. I don't like being bossed around." Her hand went lax and fell off his wrist, her shoulders slumped forward and she wore a glassy-eyed look. She barely breathed.

He laid her down on her back, turned the lamp off on the side table. "I hope to eventually tell you all those words, but when I do, it'll because they're true, my little one, not because you want a fantasy." He stroked his hand down her cheek. "I do want you to know though, that I care about you very much, and think about your welfare every moment of the day. That will never stop."

He could hear the muffled sound of her cries.

"I can't do this with you. I can't reach for something I'll never have. It'll break me," she whimpered. Her center caved in on her, and she turned over onto her stomach and crushed her face into her pillow.

"Find out what it means to love yourself first. You can't love someone else or let them love you, if your heart's so closed off." He dragged his hand down her back then pushed it between her and the mattress.

"What're you . . . ?" Her head popped up.

He kissed her temple. "Shhh . . . Sir's gonna show you something. No games. Just opening a door you're too nervous to touch," he said.

His fingers slipped past her shirt and he circled her navel with his fingertips. He went onto his side, his body lengthened out next to hers. His other hand settled heavy on her lower back, steadying her.

She blinked and stared at him with a blank expression. "I can't," she whispered, her mouth a few inches from his.

He leaned in and kissed her, softly at first, then when she moaned, he let it gradually build.

When he broke away, she leaned toward him, her eyes heavy and marred with the weight of her world, attempting to bury her once more.

"Again," she whimpered.

"Again, _what_?"

"Sir," she said, her eyes softening, and her voice hitching.

"Oh, that's a really good little girl. I'm going to touch you now the way you need." He slipped his fingers passed her loose shorts and into her panties.

She gasped a little, and her chest rounded away from the mattress.

"I want you to imagine Sir holding you, taking care of you, making you happier than you've ever been," he whispered in her ear.

He slid on top of her, his chest hugging her shoulder blades, and his stomach pressed into her lower back. "This is all you do—right now, you think of what Sir does to take care of you." He pulled up for a second and removed her pajama shorts and panties in one long dragging motion.

He waited to see if she'd protest, but she lay still, her eyes closed with her face relaxed.

His fingers smoothed over her wonderfully rounded cheeks and then he slid them down the backs of her thighs. "Who're you thinking of, little one?"

"You, Sir."

"And how does it feel? What color are we?"

"Okay." His jaw tensed. She took a breath and corrected herself, "I mean, it feels nice, and green, Sir. We're green . . ."

"Good. Sir likes to hear that. Good girl." He paused and cleared his head for a second, with an exhale. "Right now, in this moment, you will think of me molding you, making you into what you want to be. Not what you think you _should_ be." He stroked her inner thighs, explored her outer lips, plumping them and making her hips lift.

"Sssssfffffaahhh," she sucked in a quick breath when his fingers edged at the slit.

"You told me your fingers weren't able to get you off without a lot of effort. That had to be really frustrating for my little one. Perhaps she thinks she's dirty, but she's really too innocent. Does Sir need to teach her how to be his good little slut?"

"Mmmmyyyyaagawwwd," she groaned.

"What did you _say_? Is that who you need right now? Is that who's touching and giving this to you?" He rimmed the opening so slowly, she almost started shaking with need. "Who's giving you what you need? Hmm?"

"You are, Sir."

"Who's orgasm is this?"

"Yours, Sir."

"No one else's," he said, his voice smooth and yet sharp enough to cut glass.

He spread her legs with his, pushed his left hand down onto her left shoulder blade, trapping her in place.

Her arms suddenly flew out.

"Put those hands down, now. You grip behind your head or hang onto your pillow, but if you touch me . . ." He stopped mid-sentence.

"Yes, Sir," she mewled.

Her fingers interlaced behind her head.

Fuck. His mouth watered and he twitched. "That's beautiful. Perfect and so right."

"It's not," she said, shaking her head a little, and her voice sounded a little too heartbreaking.

He swatted her ass as a warning. She blinked, but nothing more.

"If you need to safeword, you do it, but don't you contradict me. You can't see what I see." He leaned over her; pressed a large amount of his weight into her back. Right as he angled his body to the side and found his way to her mouth, he slipped his tongue inside and simultaneously pressed two fingers inside her lush, wet pussy. Oh, God that was good. "Whose sub are you?"

"Yours, Sir," she said, a whimper trapped in her throat.

"That's right. Such a beautiful thing when you let go—a good girl like you knows to trust her Dom. She knows he'll keep her safe and protected." His tongue darted out and moistened his bottom lip.

She had let go of the back of her head and fisted the bottom of her pillow the moment his mouth approached hers.

He stroked her insides, licked her lips and then pulsed his tongue across the roof of her mouth.

She tried to release her hands from the pillow and turn over, but he had her firmly locked down in place with his bodyweight. He pressed her down harder, and when he did, her jaw relaxed, allowing his tongue deeper inside.

She moaned, and he let go of the kiss.

Her back arched, her mouth searching for his, and it made her ass curve deep, allowing his fingers to plunge and curl; move in a way he knew she'd be unable to resist.

Her pussy greedily sucked his fingers in and drenched them. Right as a high pitched whine peeled out of her throat, he stopped his hand. "Say, 'Sir, I'm your submissive, and I'm ready to open up to you. No more hiding, and I give you my trust.'"

"Shit," she ground out.

His fingers moved once more, but this time he prodded that G spot, circling it relentlessly. "You wanna learn about punishments right now? I'm up for that lesson," he whispered into her mouth.

Her lips remained parted, searching him out. "No, Sir."

"Then you say it. It's in your heart; it's in your blood—stop killing yourself over this. You're beautiful. You want me to be proud of you? Then show me who you are—you're my slut. You're a loving, sweet, intelligent submissive, and it's a wonderful thing." Her G spot was tender and juicy, milking a little, making the sexiest sounds imaginable as he kneaded it.

"Sir, I forgot what to say," she said, straining her neck back.

He moved his free hand to cup the front of her throat and drummed his fingers along the column of her neck. It made her tip her head back in a more exaggerated way.

"Say whatever you have inside your heart. Tell me what kind of a sub you are. Tell me what a slut you are for this Dom," he said. The two fingers inside her traced around the edges of her G spot.

"Ahhhhh-ah . . . Oh, fuck!" she cried out.

"My slut likes it when I do this. And I love to hear her make that sound, so I'm gonna do it again. Over and over, and eventually she'll tell me who she is," he said, his teeth grazing along the back of her shoulder as he went.

Once more—fingers splayed inside her a little, rounding that spot. He pressed his fingers together then parted them; back and forth in a scissoring motion. "My little slutty girl gets really wet when I do this, and even if she thinks she's bad and doesn't deserve it, she knows she wants it. Doesn't she?"

She nodded, closed her eyes, licked her lips then sucked them in. A look of agony crossed her face and her brow tightened.

"Thank fuck, my naughty little one knows how to please her Dom, because he's really hard for her. She makes him feel so good when she shares things with him. When she tells him about her day; what she likes, what she doesn't. And when she says he makes her feel safe, his heart gets bigger, because there's nothing better than hearing that."

She gasped when he pressed a little into that G spot. God, she was squirting now. He loved that, and his whole chest flamed as he imagined having his tongue there to slurp it up.

"What do you think happens though when his gorgeous slut chooses to shut him out, and refuses to share when she's afraid? How can he help her?" He pulled his fingers out, painted her lips with her pussy juices and sat up.

He released his hold on her.

A ragged yelp flew out of her the second the pressure was gone.

"Isabella, you think this is a game? I think it's your lifeline, and I don't fuck around with a sub's life. If you're gonna do this—you commit to _me_. You _be_ my sub, and you _own_ it. If you don't want this, then you tell me now to my face. No more hiding. You trust me, or you don't."

She turned onto her side, curled into a ball and stared at him with her massive, dark bedroom eyes, almost swallowing up her face. "Stay," she said.

"_I_ will choose if I stay or go. You say right now who you are and what you want. If you tell me to go rather than tell me what I've asked, then that's it. You won't see me again unless you choose to show up at the club with your friends, but I'll stay out of your way," he said.

Her legs clamped together tightly.

"Say it," he said. "You have the power. Say what you want. Choose your path," he said, standing up.

"This submissive is sorry she displeased Sir," she said, her hands tucked up under her chin, and suddenly, she burst into tears. "I'm sorry . . . So sorry, Sir. I don't know . . . I want to, but I'm really fucking scared. Tonight . . . That could've been me instead of Alice. And you left me with some other Dom I didn't know . . ."

He crashed onto the bed, had her tucked up in his body immediately.

"I would never leave you in harm's way. There's no way I'd ever do that. I know that Dom well, and I trust him implicitly. You could've always used your safeword as well. I'll always listen if you use it, and fix whatever's wrong."

"Okay, sir." She shifted a little, and her face was now serene and her eyes much calmer.

His eyes roamed over her. She really was beautiful and so sweet when she allowed herself to be vulnerable. "You've made me so proud tonight," he cooed, petting down her hair.

"Do you promise, Sir? You'll save me?"

"Every damn time," he answered.

"Sir, if I let you down again . . ."

"You won't. Impossible. You took the leap, and I've caught you."

She exhaled and her whole body softened.

That's when he knew—this was gonna be the best thing he ever did.

.

.

.

Bella looked at her phone. Edward was calling. Her insides lit up and bounced a little even though they barely parted a few hours ago. He'd set out clothes and shoes for her to wear to work and then went home.

"Yes, Sir, I'm here for you," she answered.

"Oh, there's my little girl's voice—smooth as silk, and I'm hard already." She sucked in her gasp, held it tight in her tummy. He continued, "My sub didn't know she did that to her Dom, did she?"

"No, Sir," she said.

"I'm coming to see you. You will stand either in front of your desk, waiting with your hands clasped behind your back or you will sit on your desk with your hands gripping the edge of the desk. You are not to touch me when I approach you. Is that clear, little one?"

"Sir, may I speak freely?"

"You may, and thank you for being respectful and using the proper tone and title," he answered.

"When you call me little girl . . . Well, I . . . I get awfully close to yellow." She bit her lip, closed her eyes and tipped her head back. This was going to piss him off for sure.

"How close?"

"A hair's breadth away," she said, breathily. "It reminds me of what my dad used to call me, Sir."

"Thank you for sharing that, but next time, you tell me these things upfront. Don't let me keep doing something that hurts you or gets in the way of your progress. And I don't want to have to keep fishing for more information." He paused and exhaled. "Okay, you're not my little girl anymore. You're my little one, instead."

"Thank you, Sir." She dropped her head and stared at her feet. Shit. He was coming here? This morning she chose to ignore his choice of clothing and shoes for her, wearing something else much tighter and more revealing. What would he do to her for this infraction?

Her belly tightened at the thought of a number of things he might _do_.

"Sir, I have to tell you something else," she said, hesitant, her voice soft and breaking.

"If it's that you—"

"Please, don't be upset, but I wore something else to work, other than what you chose for me. I couldn't do it, Sir. I know you'll be upset with me now, and maybe punish me, but I can't take it when you tell me how to dress," she blurted, then covered her hand with her mouth.

He chuckled. "Does this have to do with your father as well?"

She nodded. "It does, Sir. He used to boss me around and tell me certain outfits made me look fat, or like a boy, or even a . . ." she leaned forward and whispered ". . . slut."

He growled. "You are not _a_ slut—you are _my_ slut. And I love thatabout you. It makes me very proud of my sub. You will always be my slut. And you are no longer my little girl. You're now my secretary. No one else's. Your only boss is me. I'll set up a portion of your closet for your work approved clothes. You may pick each morning from that selection which outfits you will wear, and I'll be buying you new clothes for this very purpose. That way I control what you wear, but you get to pick it out so you have some sense of independence."

She huffed and gripped the back of her neck, her feet shuffling. Her nauseousness over this was unsettling.

"You will wear those clothes even after work until I come and see you. Only then will I say if you can change. Every day, you are to wear your hair down. Never up. Once you get home, you may put it in a ponytail, braid or pin it up how you like. I insist you do this, Isabella. I want it out of my way, so when I want to bite that sinful neck, there's nothing in my way," he said.

"Yes, Sir."

"I have a gift for you. I'm leaving now. Get in the spot I told you, and assume one of the positions I explained. Wait for me. If somebody stops by at your office, you tell them you're on a break and will get to whatever they need in a half hour." His low, guttural speech was setting her on fire. She was so wet, it was unreal, and God, after the way he was fingering her last night, and never let her come . . .

Her legs slid together and she clenched her jaw closed.

"You will also find a place in your office where we'll have some privacy, and I can do with you what I please," he said, and then took a deep breath. "See you in a few, my sexy secretary. I have great expectations for you."

"I'll try my best to please you, Sir," she said.

"You don't have to try—because you'll do it and succeed. I know you can make me proud just like you did last night. Be there in a bit." He ended the call.

Her eyes combed the room and she gaped. A place in _here_ he could do whatever he wanted to her?

What the hell was he thinking? He knew her office had glass windows by the door. Her eyes shifted about like a cat chasing a mouse—all jerky and spastic.

Bella slipped off her heels, moved a coat rack that had been in a corner to now sit in front of one of the windows. Better, but it wouldn't really deter somebody from getting a glimpse if they really wanted to see what was going on.

Next, she found a plant by the front window, overlooking the city. Shit. That thing was heavy.

She gripped her fingers around the edge of the planter, heaved and grunted as sweat collected at the back of her neck.

"Oh, God!" she groaned. Her hair was up.

After she found the plant a new spot by the door, where it covered most of the other window, and made her entire room look off-kilter, she ripped the pins out of her hair, kicked her shoes under her desk and sat on the edge with her hands in her lap.

Her legs swung back and forth like a child, but inside she was thinking thoughts that were less than innocent.

What would he do to her? Would he fuck her in here? Oh Christ, please don't let their first time be at work. So unromantic.

Maybe he'd finger her again, and this time let her come?

Her chest heated and she was so warm, she unbuttoned the top two buttons of her tight blouse. This was okay, right? He called her _his _slut.

A wave of goose bumps traveled up her inner thighs, like a solid invitation, beckoning him inside.

After fretting over what he might possibly do and say to her, and about ready to throw herself out the door and run away, her door opened.

"Well, I'm already proud." The door clicked closed. "And hard as fuck," Edward rasped.

She started to look over her shoulder then thought better of it.

"Hands behind your back. Grip your elbows instead of the desk," he said.

_Claaap, claaap, claaap._

His heavy footsteps on the carpeting were doing things to her as her arms went behind her back and she did as she was told.

"Don't touch. Be a good little secretary," he purred. He set something down on the desk next to her. It was gift wrapped and looked like it might be a book. When she leaned to get closer to it, he blew across her cheek. Then, suddenly, her hair was pushed away from her right ear and a lick ran up the lobe.

"You may speak, but you will call me Sir or boss. Nothing else." He played with her hair for a moment and then settled himself between her legs. "You look beautiful, but you're right—I don't approve of this outfit. These are mine to look at and hold. What do you think the dicks around here are thinking of my secretary when they see her wearing this? Hmm?"

His hands drifted from her hair, down her shoulders and landed on her breasts. Her chest heated. His thumbs swiped her nipples, making her breath trap in her throat and her chest cave in.

"You wanna know what I brought you?"

"Yes, Sir." She swallowed, and a wave of heat passed from her throat and settled low in her belly.

"It's for you—my naughty secretary—to keep notes. Any time I call you or talk to you, you are to write down what I say."

Her eyes shifted up to his face, then deflected when she saw his smirk. "All of it, Sir?"

"Yes, all of it. And as soon as you're alone and I'm done with my slut, you're going to write down how you feel. For five minutes, you journal, and I may choose to read it later." He handed her the gift. "Open it."

Her hands trembled as she slowly tore away the wrapping. It was a simple black leather bound notebook. She had no idea what to say.

"What if I don't know what to write, Sir?"

"You have feelings. Put them on paper. It can be about how you feel about me, how you feel about being a sub—things you're unsure of. And if you want to make sure I read something, dog-ear the page. If you think you'd rather I didn't read something, put a star up in the top corner. I may choose to read it anyway, but then I know your preference." He cupped her neck. "Now, give me those gorgeous big eyes. You're my secretary now. Set the book aside, arms behind your back, and you stay still while I do this."

Her eyes flashed wide and her clit throbbed instantly.

"Do what, Sir?" Her voice rose in pitch.

"Do whatever the fuck I desire to my secretary, because I have dirty fantasies about her all the time."

She stood up. "You _do_?"

He swatted her ass for being disrespectful and not using his title. "_Sir_," he growled.

"Sorry, Sir. Can I make it up to you somehow?" She was mentally rolling her eyes at herself. Most of the time she felt like an idiot, and now she sounded like one, trying to pretend she could role play with him as his naughty, fantasy secretary.

"Yes, you can. You're gonna relieve my thick hard cock, since you made it this way. And when you're done, you're going to take a note of what I want you to do tonight when you wait for me at your home," he said.

_Ziii-iii-iii-iii-iii-pppppp!_

His fly slowly inched its way down each agonizing tooth, and she suddenly squeaked, "But, Sir, you didn't ask me where the place was I found for us to do this," she blurted.

Her arms unlatched from each other and she squeezed her hands on her thighs.

"I can see restraints are a must for this secretary. I'm glad I came prepared." He chuckled in delight.

Her eyes squeezed shut, real tight and she mouthed, "_Shiiiit_!" through an exhale. "Sir, I'm at work."

"So you keep saying," he replied. "I took care of it. We won't be interrupted. Now . . ." He cupped her jaw. "Kneel, my secretary. You don't think about anything other than doing what I tell you. I'll stand in front of you, and you'll take a spot where the desk will hide most of what you're doing."

"_Most_?" Her throat went absolutely dryer than it ever had before. She swallowed what felt like a bowling ball.

"Kneel and say 'Sir' while you're doing it, or I might move you right in front of the windows for this," he said.

Her tongue clicked, and she squeaked, "Yes, Sir." She slid off the edge of the desk, kicked her shoes out of the way and knelt in front of him. Her whole back hunched over and her shoulders rolled forward as she gazed up at him. It was uncomfortable, and she felt like an imbecile down here. Why couldn't she get it together and play the part of slutty secretary? Then this would be over quicker.

Why couldn't she let go? How many times had she fantasized about going down on a man here in this very spot, and now she was facing it and her feet were numb, her heart was a fist , lifting and constricting her throat, and her tongue felt like it was a dead weight in her mouth.

"That's a good secretary." He stared down at her, looming tall and larger than life. Masculinity seeped out of him with every breath. "Your assignments today—you journal after I leave, and you're going to be home by five, letting me in the door five minutes later. I'll have something ready for you, and if you're late, you'll get the first taste of punishment."

She swallowed and barely nodded.

"Ready?"

"I don't know, Sir. Ready for what?"

"To pleasure me," he said, dipping down, cupping her chin and holding it there with one hand as his other disappeared inside his fly.

Her knees automatically crawled, inching her closer to him, and a rush swept through her, deepening her breathing. She gripped her thighs and curled her tongue back for a moment.

She could do this. She was good at giving head. Really good at it. She loved it in fact, and never turned it down when a guy wanted it from her, unless of course he was repellent.

"Open, my slut. And take me all the way in right away," he lilted.

His hips jutted forward. He released himself from his pants and stroked the tip with slow, fluid motions of his fist.

She tried to blink, but she couldn't.

"Ever had an uncut dick in your mouth?" he asked, smirking.

She shook her head. This was going to be interesting. What was she supposed to do now? She was already overwhelmed looking at it, but not because she didn't want to taste him. It was because she had no idea what to do with a foreskin. What if she hurt him accidentally by sucking too hard? And it looked really thick—the entire head.

She rested back on her feet. "Sir, I want to but I . . ."

"And you will," he said, taking her by the jaw and leading her to him. "Open wide and tip your head back. I'll guide it in for you."

Every cell in her body screamed at her to glance over her shoulder to make sure nobody was outside her office now, watching them, but she knew he'd be really displeased if she did that.

So she smoothed her expression, relaxed her jaw and waited for him to take absolute control of her mouth.

The buttery smooth feel of warm skin pressing and sliding in over her tongue, made her eyes glaze over. God, he was so hot, and this was sweet torture, taking care of him right now—letting primal needs take over.

He pushed all the way to the back of her mouth, and rested there for a moment. She almost gagged when he hit the roof of it, but then he laced his fingers behind her head, threaded them through her hair and angled her head back even further.

She knew what he was doing—trying to get her to deep throat him. That's why he was holding the tip there, deep in the back. She focused on the salty tang, the pressure, and her body responded, her mouth watering and automatically lubricating her mouth so it would slip easier. She sucked deeper with his encouragement then held it there again while flattening her tongue. He arched his lower back and began thrusting so slowly, so controlled, she thought she was going to come from watching him. The precise tiny flexing movements of his hips, his thighs and abs—Jesus, it was amazing to witness even when she was only seeing glimpses since he was still wearing pants, along with the rest of his clothes. His deep, guttural groan told her she was doing it right.

Her heart raced, and her palms sweat. She breathed hard and loud.

He stared at her face, his eyes burning into her, telling her it was a delicious torture to him too.

His hands gripped harder in her hair, and he tipped her head up even more. He drove his cock even deeper, opening her throat further. She swallowed, and his cock twitched then held steady.

A puff of breath exited her nostrils.

"Fuck, you take it deep. My cock can't get any deeper than that, can it? Or is my slut ready for me to fuck her face really hard—so hard she can't think about the man standing outside right now, watching me pump myself into her soft, sexy mouth."

She whimpered and closed her eyes.

"Watch me, Isabella." He fisted her hair. "He can't see you. He has no idea who's down on the ground, pleasuring me."

Her eyes opened, and she reached out to grip his thighs, but he used his left knee to nudge her hands out of the way.

"I didn't restrain you like I said I would, but I will. Don't touch me with anything but your mouth. If you understand, blink once. If the answer's no, blink twice."

He pushed his cock inside a little further.

She blinked once and her eyes misted a little.

"Does this hurt? The same way to answer—blink once if it does."

She blinked twice, signaling she was green, okay to continue.

"Good. That's very good. And now I'm gonna fuck your mouth the way I please, and you'll swallow my come, because you told me once before, you like to take it down."

She didn't remember ever confiding that in him. Her eyes narrowed. How did he know this about her?

_Stupid, Bella. The paperwork . . ._

The papers she had to fill out at the club last night gave him this information. Had to be how he knew. Damn her. She'd rushed through it and didn't take it seriously because she was only there to observe, not play. She'd noted the things she was comfortable doing, including swallowing a man's come, along with the things she'd never do. It was a basic, nothing type of form she barely blinked at.

Well, he'd obviously gotten ahold of it and read it at some point.

"You like it rough? If you decide it's too much, blink twice, and I'll stop."

He pulled handfuls of her hair; it made her eyes slide back in her head and moan. And when his legs pistoned and that cock was ramming into her mouth hard, she couldn't help but make an even louder, guttural noise.

"Oh, such a naughty whore, my secretary is—making all those sounds so everybody knows you love taking my head down your throat. What kind of sounds are you gonna make when I'm in your tight little cunt? Will you squirt all over your desk? If you do, I'll make you lick it up later," he said, his voice low and husky.

She straightened her spine, and her eyes followed his right hand the moment he released it from the back of her head.

He pulled out of her mouth, stroked his shaft with a roughness she found so sexy, she couldn't look away. She was mesmerized at the way the skin moved like silk over the meatus and the tip disappeared then returned, looking almost a royal purple color at the tip. "Yeah, you want it back in your mouth, don't you, my dirty whore? You can't stand I'm touching it and not letting you have another taste. Tell me you want it, and maybe I'll give it back to you."

She almost jumped to attention. "I want it, Sir, so much. Please, let me suck you off the rest of the way."

"And do you care how many people are watching this?"

"N-no, Sir. I only want you to let me please you," she said.

"And you will." He leaned over, and placed it back in her mouth, then pressed both index fingers to two spots on the sides of her throat, high up on her neck. "Unlock it here, my good little slut, and it'll be easier for you, because I'm gonna go harder, deeper, and faster."

She swallowed, leaned forward and once her head was tipped back as far as it could go, he started thrusting with abandon. A second later, he suddenly bent his knees and wrapped those strong fingers from his right hand around her throat.

Chills followed by electric sparks, flooded down her center and made everything ache and weep inside her. Her pussy throbbed violently.

"Mmhhummhmm," she whimpered and suddenly flung her arms behind her, clasping her hands. She wanted him so bad, she knew she'd grab him if she didn't somehow restrain herself.

"Oh, fuck! Yeah, that's it . . . That's what I want from you," he said, releasing his grip on her throat. His head tilted back and long, hot spurts coated the back of her throat and slipped down her passageway with ease.

She stayed motionless, only swallowing, resisting the urge to see if there really was anybody watching them from the window.

When he stopped rolling his hips, he took a deep breath. His head floated back down, and he looked at her with so much adoration, her eyes filled with tears and her heart swelled so large, her chest ached. "Fuck, if your angel's lips and mouth weren't created precisely for me. That was perfect. I loved it, and I'm proud of you. Proud you overcame yourself. You are _my_ sub. _Mine_." He exhaled. "Who do you belong to?" He pulled his dick out of her drenched mouth.

She swallowed. "You, Sir. Only you, and I'm glad." She sighed and her eyes misted then closed. Her chest was warm, her shoulders relaxed and she breathed so easy, she felt almost lightheaded. When she opened her eyes and saw him beaming at her, her mind contained only one thought—

_My Master . . ._

**A/N:**

**Wanted to take a moment to explain what BDSM stands for. Bondage Domination Submission Masochism. Most people think the S is for Sadism. I know **_**I**_ **used to think that. It can mean sadism, but many people in the lifestyle that are mainstream, don't use it that way. The S usually stands for Submission. Hope that helps.**

**Chanse**


	13. Chapter 13

**Chapter 13**

"When will they be here? Rose asked, stroking her hands through Emmett's hair.

"In about twenty minutes, Mistress," Emmett answered.

She smiled down at him. It was nice being back in the club after being away for a few days.

His head was in her lap, and his body splayed out before her. This was one of the rare times she told him to wear some boxer briefs. If Master Jasper and Master Edward arrived early, she didn't want her sub to have to be all panicked to get dressed. If that would even fluster Emmett. He seemed fine with anybody seeing him naked.

She wanted to keep this steady stream of relaxation and open communication going though, so she had him a little clothed.

"Tell me what you liked about our scene last night," she said, feeling so relaxed she almost sounded slurred.

He closed his eyes with a lazy grin spreading over his lips. "Everything. I loved it all, Mistress . . . Except . . ."

"Except what? Tell me, please." Her fingers combed over and over, tugging at the tips of his hair each time she reached the end of the runway.

"Okay, but I . . . I like her, so I don't want you to do anything rash. Mistress, I really don't want Amber watching us when we scene together. She wouldn't listen to me last night when I kept telling her I'm not a Dom anymore and that I'm taken," he said, his eyes opening and seemingly searching her for a reaction.

"I'll deal with her. She's infatuated with you; and I can't say I blame her," she replied.

He hummed when she raked her nails over his scalp.

That half-drugged look on his face, made her do it again. She scratched and he mewled in her lap.

God, that was so hot.

"I don't know what she is other than persistent. I don't know that I'd say she's annoying, but she—"

"I would," she cut him off. "I'll say that shit now. She's annoying me to no end, and I barely met her. I'm going to discuss this with Jasper and Edward when they get here. We need to get her into the hands of a Dom right away. She's not messing with my sub," she said. "What can I do to make things better for you next time we scene at the club together?"

"Mistress, if you do it any better, I probably won't survive. I've never felt so right in my life." He turned and nuzzled his nose into her thigh.

A pulse of heat radiated up her thigh and her heart melted. That little, adorable act from him was addictive.

"I'll keep that in mind," she said, chuckling. "What about the ropes I used? Were they too scratchy? Did I have them too tight? Was the position comfortable?"

"They were good, and no, they weren't too tight or scratchy. It could've been tighter actually. I think I'd like less give," he answered. He smiled and nudged her again with his nose. "I don't know if you could ever make it too tight."

"Oh, I could, but I won't. I don't want you to lose circulation."

He nipped at her leg, making her yelp and giggle. His eyes turned on her, and something inside her pooled low and heavy. "I mean I don't think you could ever make it tight enough for my liking. I think I liked it better too when you had my arms tucked at my side. It felt more under your power. When my arms are spread out, I don't know . . . I feel like if I really wanted to, I could get free. But the other way, I know you have absolute control. I can't snatch at you with my hands; I can't really grab onto anything myself."

Her eyes softened, and everything was warm with amber glow. "You really know how to make a Domme feel good, don't you?"

"I only call it like I see it and feel it, Mistress Rosie, and you did a great job." He puckered his lips for a second and then blew out. "Did Jasper tell you he got tons of emails and calls about what a great job you did?" He suddenly stiffened.

"No. I haven't had a chance to talk to him yet. I figured he'd let me know today at this meeting how I did; if the club was happy with our scene," she said. Her fingers drifted down to his shoulders and then dragged to his chest. He flexed his pecs and she could almost imagine it deflecting anything as her hand slightly bounced off him. She dug her fingers in a little.

He beamed at her. "Great hands, as always, Mistress," he said with a low, sated hum.

"Shut up before I decide to strap on and ride you."

"Then I'm gonna keep talking," he teased.

"We don't have time for that. They'll be here soon. Is there anything else you want to talk to me about from our scene?" she asked.

He loosely wrapped one arm around her waist. Her right eyebrow popped up as she smiled at him.

"I don't think so, Mistress. How did you feel about it?"

"Other than Amber being a disrespectful pain in the ass, and our aftercare being cut short, I was happy with it. I think next time I might wear lower heels so I won't be straining my back so much when I'm leaning over you. But for a first time doing a scene, I was pretty happy with it." She played with his chest some more. Such a fabulous body, and so willing to let her do what she wanted. Why did that sound so delicious and make her want to have him all the time?

His eyes drifted closed. "Best. Hands. Ever," he purred.

"Thank you." She tipped her head back to stretch a little, and she sighed.

The room went quiet and still, yet it was full of life. There was this ambiance of tranquility surrounding them she'd never shared with another person before.

"Mistress, do you think you would care to perhaps ever let me live with you? I was wondering if we could maybe try it out on the weekends at least."

Oh fuck. Her spine melted right into the floor.

"Shhhh . . ." Her head dropped down and kind of dangled above him. She leaned over and kissed his forehead. "No more talking until they get here. Just feel me."

He nodded, closed his eyes and gripped his arm tighter around her waist. And there was another little action she adored—he clung to her for support. He held on like he trusted her, and that meant everything.

.

.

.

_Shhhhhhhhaaaaaahhhhh . . ._

The shower was running. _Again._

Jasper ran through his place, hurling himself into the bathroom.

Shit. They were supposed to be at the club for a meeting with Edward, Emmett and Rose in the next twenty minutes. He'd barely dressed Alice ten minutes ago.

_Chuuuuugh, chuuuuugh, chuuuugh._

She had the loofah and was scraping her legs with it.

"Can't get it off—so dirty, so dirty, such a dirty whore," Alice chanted.

Jasper stripped down in less than ten seconds, and was back in the shower with her, like he had been an hour prior.

"Shhh . . . You're my good little girl. Not dirty at all."

Her eyes leaked tears and she scrubbed harder. "Yes, I am."

"No, darling, you're not. You're so wonderfully clean. Would I touch you at all if I thought you were a nasty whore?" He reached out and gently touched her arm. "Give me the sponge now."

He'd already removed everything out of the shower she could hurt herself with, including his shaver. He had the beginnings of a beard already after several days of not shaving.

"I can't get it off!" she cried.

"He won't touch you ever again. The police took him away," he explained.

"He licked me. All over my legs, he said I was dripping with his come. But he didn't . . . He didn't come all over my legs. Did he? Did he do that? I can't . . . Oh, God, I can't remember!"

She dropped the sponge, and her arms went lax at her sides.

"No . . . Alice, he was toying with you. He was completely dressed the entire time, and the dungeon guard said there wasn't anything on you except for the marks he made with the whip. He lied to you." Jasper spun her around to face him, draped her arms around his neck. When he shifted, it moved him into the scalding hot water. "Sssffffffuck!" he hissed under his breath.

It was amazing she had any skin left on her at all. He turned the temperature down right away.

"He licked me. It was . . . so hideous," she mewled, her eyes closed, her body sagging into his.

"I know . . . I've got you now. You're clean. You've worked so hard to be clean and stay that way. I'm so proud of you, but we're only going to take two showers a day. One in the morning, and one before bed. You've taken three today, so how many more are you allowed for today?" He kissed her forehead.

"Negative one." She sucked in an exhausted breath and nuzzled her head into his chest. "Does that mean tomorrow I can only take one?" She stiffened and her legs tried to push her up, but the poor girl could hardly stand.

He chuckled. "That's right. If this doesn't stop, I'll be forced to change the locks on the bathroom and you will _not_ be allowed inside unless I specifically unlock it and bring you in here. I'm even considering restraining you if you can't obey me on this. This isn't okay. I'm taking care of you, and you're so safe and protected, you don't need to worry about a thing except listening to me. No more of this." He rocked her and spoke with a firm, but soothing voice.

She seemed fine with this. He was going to call a friend of his today—a therapist in the lifestyle. He needed to get her in so she could get the help she needed.

"But . . . Your job. You can't keep calling in and staying with me." She tried to push him off, but her weak, clumsy attempt, only made him grip her harder. He turned the water off and hauled her out of the shower.

He grabbed a towel off the nearby rack, wrapped it around her, lowered the toilet seat lid and sat her down on it.

"I've got that all worked out. You're my responsibility, and I'm here for you." He took a second towel down and started patting her legs dry.

When they were barely damp, he took out the body cream and started slathering her legs with it.

"Tell me if it stings," he said.

"It's nice. I really like it when you touch me, Master," she said in a gentle tone.

He looked up at her as he crouched on the ground. "Sweetie, you don't call me that. I'm Sir, or Jasper to you. I'm not your Master because I haven't collared you."

Her face sagged, her eyes dropped and she looked completely devastated. "What if I . . . need you to do that for me?" Her chest stuttered as she took in a gulp of air. One shoulder fell and the other followed.

"Why would you want that? Do you even know what it means to—"

She reached out and cupped his chin. "I can't think . . . I can't breathe, unless you're telling me what to do, what to concentrate on. All I know is I need this."

"Are you saying you want to be my slave?" He blinked twice, his mouth went dry and he stood up, looming over her. His hands settled on his hips.

Her hand was still extended like she needed to be touching somehow or she'd fall to pieces.

"Please, consider it, Master . . ." Tears dripped from the corners of her eyes, and her mouth twitched.

"I will—I promise. But for now, it's probably best you call me Sir, not Master." He removed her towel and quickly put cream on the rest of her body. "We need to be somewhere, and you're going with me."

"May I ask where, Sir?"

"No. You probably won't like it. I'm going to carry you in with a blindfold on, and you're to stay in my lap the entire time. If you need to use the toilet, do it now. I'll bring you a snack and a drink, but you're to remain quiet. I'll also be putting some earbuds in so you can listen to some soothing music," he said.

She nodded in tiny increments. It almost looked like she was swaying to a song already.

Really, he knew she was trying to psyche herself up for this.

"I'll be touching you every second, so you won't have anything to fear."

She dropped her head and released a huge, agonized breath.

"It's the club, isn't it?"

"Alice?" He tipped her head back. "This is one question I'm not going to answer because you don't need to know. You'll be with me, and I'll take care of you. When you get nervous or afraid, I want you to think about me collaring you or go to a safe place in your mind. We're going to start working on that together—help you control your body's responses by putting yourself into a mental place where you're happy and fully engaged."

Her eyes lit up for a second, and the corners of her lips started to curl but then fell again.

"Please, Sir, can I think of something else too?"

He chuckled. "Yes, my sweet little thing. You have my permission to think about anything at all that makes you happy. That's exactly what I want you to do."

"You make me happy." She settled her hands in her lap.

"Good." He smiled.

"All the time. You're the most wonderful man I've ever known," she said.

"And a very late man. I don't like running behind. There are people waiting for us. And even though I won't be introducing you to them, they'll be happy you're there."

She nodded, but this time there was more to it than a simple, giving up. It was nice to see her spirits lifting.

He pulled her into his bedroom, dressed her again, and then set her on the end of the bed.

His ass was cold, he was dripping all over the place, but he didn't have time to spend a lot of time on getting ready, so he ran a towel over himself quickly, got his clothes back on and hustled to get everything she would need.

Within moments, she was in his car, buckled, blindfolded, and was holding his iPhone with the earbuds in her lap.

"Sir?" She settled the side of her head on the headrest and was facing him, even though she couldn't see him with her eyes covered like that.

"Yes, Alice. Speak freely. I'll be putting those earbuds in soon."

He pulled into the parking lot.

"I love being with you," she sighed.

"Good. Because I feel the same about you." He parked and turned off the car. "Okay, my sweet thing. I'm going to get out of the car, come around and put those earbuds in, then I'm carrying you to where we're gonna go. I've got the snack and drink in a bag, so you don't need to worry about that. When you're hungry, I want you to squeeze my arm. I'll leave the water bottle in your hand once we're all settled. Do you need anything else before we get started?"

"No, Master. I . . . Uh, mean, Sir. Sorry." She flinched and her mouth opened like she was searching for more words to backpedal.

He leaned over and kissed her. "You really want this, don't you?"

She nodded and her lips pressed together; her body leaning forward like she was searching for more reassurance through another kiss.

He gave her another one.

"So damned sweet. I love that about you." He ran his thumb over her lips and gave her one more kiss.

She beamed. "Thank you, Sir."

"No more worrying. You're with me. I'm getting out of the car now. Sit here patiently and think about a happy place filled with peace."

She settled back into her seat so he took the opportunity to get out, go get her, put her earbuds in and start the music. He secured the bag and had them inside a minute later.

He kissed her head over and over, and she tucked her face into his chest, gripping his shirt with both hands.

His heart squeezed each time she tried to pull herself further into him.

Did she have any idea what it meant to be a slave? Was she really ready for this? And where had that idea even come from? He was going to have to work harder at making her feel safe. It was obvious she needed more.

He shook his head a little and picked up the pace. She was a petite woman, but still . . . His arms weren't used to carrying someone around this much, even if he'd been picking her up and moving her around at his place over the last few days.

He nudged open the door to the office. Edward, Emmett and Rose were all around the table, debating how to increase the club's safety.

Jasper found a spot, settled in with Alice, handed her a water bottle, and Rose smiled at him.

"How's she doing?" Rose asked, her eyes sympathetic.

"She's managing. We're discussing how to move forward, and I didn't think she was quite ready to deal with this place yet, but I wasn't about to leave her alone at home."

"Home?" Edward asked. "Is she living with you now?"

"Pretty much," Jasper answered. "It was kind of a necessity, and I hate to say it, but we both kind of like it."

Edward smiled.

"_What_?" Jasper asked.

"Nothing. I never thought I'd see you like this . . . You old softie," Edward teased.

"Look . . . The second some asshole tries to hurt your sub, you see if you don't cage her up in your bedroom and stand guard." Jasper's gaze darkened.

"Hey, I didn't mean anything. I know how it is. I'm proud of the way you're handling the entire thing. Alice's lucky you and Rose are dealing with all the police crap and legal shit. Anytime you guys want me to jump in, just say so. I'd love to rip that fucker's balls off," Edward said. He propped his foot up on his opposing leg. "I'm glad Alice is being taken care of."

"I'm not always as on top of it as I should be, but I'm trying to make it up to her as best I can," Jasper said. He kissed her head.

"It's not your fault it happened," Rose said. She reached over and grabbed Emmett's hand. He smiled at her. Emmett leaned his head into her shoulder.

"I didn't come here to talk about that shit-head and whose fault is, so let's drop this subject. We need to deal with the task at hand. How can we tighten security? Ideas?" Jasper rocked Alice a little when she released a slight gasp.

Could she hear them? Did she know where she was?

He grabbed the iPhone and turned the music up a little louder.

"I've got you, sweetie," he whispered into her hair.

She let go of her water bottle, settled it into her lap and wrapped her arms around his neck, interlocking her hands behind his head.

Once she sighed and settled back into him, he was able to relax again.

"I'm tracking that bastard." Edward chuckled. "I'll know if he gets anywhere near Bella or Alice again."

"That's illegal," Rose said, her brow furrowing.

"Tell somebody that gives a fuck," Edward growled. "If they're not gonna let him rot in jail, then I have no other option, do I? He's not touching Bella ever again."

Rose shifted then her features flooded with understanding. "You're right. I'd gut anyone that ever tried to hurt my pet." She scratched at Emmett's scalp and tugged the hair at the nape of his neck.

"That's not going to help us keep his friends out. He might try to seek revenge. What are we supposed to do about that? I mean, we've been pretty good at keeping sadists out up until this incident, but still . . ." Jasper exhaled, and Alice yawned. He stroked her hair, hoping she'd fall asleep. Last night was rough. She kept trying to sneak back into the shower.

He dragged her back to bed twice and finally had to cuff her to the bed frame. She cried at first, but he kissed her until all she could think about was him and his body, overwhelming her.

"I think we need to check IDs of every single person that enters the club. I've been thinking we need to somehow compile lists from the other clubs to find out who they've banned as well," Rose said.

"I've already contacted the other clubs, gotten their lists and given them ours," Edward said. "But that's not enough."

Emmett sat up. "Mistress, may I join the discussion?"

She nodded and kissed his cheek.

"I was thinking maybe we need to have everyone renew their references and their recommendation cards and we need to double check all references for anyone new. They need to supply at least three names of somebody that knows them and what their involvements are in the BDSM community. We need to be more strict about this. They need to turn that in at least twenty-four hours before attending the club as a guest. Then we can make appropriate phone calls and make sure these people are who they say they are," Emmett stated.

"Not bad," Jasper said, nodding. "I like that idea. I'll make the follow-up phone calls. I can do that from home."

"Oh shit . . ." Edward groaned under his breath. "You're quitting the club, aren't you? Alice can't be here, so this is it. You're done with it?"

"For now," Jasper said. "It's not permanent, but until I get things sorted with her, I'm not about to push her into this place. She needs time to heal and deal with the things that happened here. I'm going to be getting her into therapy soon."

"Good. I'm glad she'll get some help. I hate seeing her like this," Emmett said. He blinked and exhaled in a rush. "Can I mention something else real quick? Because I have another suggestion." He looked to Rose and she gave him an approving look. "What if we have a dungeon master at the door of any room when a new Dom or new sub are playing together for the first time."

"That's gonna take a lot of coordination and organization, but I think we can do it. We'll have to make sure all the patrons, members and staff know." Rose checked her watch.

"Okay, this sounds good. This is a start . . ." Jasper said. "Pictures of banned members being in the hands of the people working the doors might be a good idea as well."

"I agree." Edward shifted in his seat. "I need to get going soon. I'm meeting Bella in a little bit. Do we want to implement these changes this weekend?" He checked his phone and was grinning.

"Definitely." Rose nodded.

"Perfect. I'm taking my sweet thing here and getting her back home so she can relax," Jasper said. He stood up, and they all helped him out the door.

.

.

.

Edward was smiling all the way to Bella's.

She sent him a photo of her naked foot, as if he had a foot fetish. This woman was hilarious some times.

His eyes settled on the gift box on the seat next to him. He couldn't wait to give it to her.

_Bzzz . . . Bzzz . . . Bzzz . . ._

His phone was jostling around next to him.

When he got to a stop light, he checked it.

Tim was leaving a restaurant, but he appeared to be heading home.

"Dickhead," Edward muttered.

He had time.

His hands grasped the wheel, and he veered in a different direction.

What kind of an idiot made fake IDs and used their actual social security number and birthday on each of them?

He stepped on the gas. Time to trail him and see where he was headed.

Edward caught up with him easily, and Tim was fairly predictable.

He had a few women he frequented regularly, and tonight it looked it was Tracy's turn.

Once Tim was inside the woman's apartment, Edward turned around and headed over to Bella's.

_Bzzz . . . Bzzz . . . Bzzz . . ._

He picked up the phone. "Tell me you're home and waiting for me," he answered.

"I am, Sir. Did you get my picture?" She giggled.

And that shit—her laughter was like heroin—making him high and his dick stiff.

"I did. Thanks for that. Mocking me already, and being a brat?"

She giggled once more and sighed at the end.

"Did you get my email this morning? And even more importantly, did you fill it out?"

"I don't see why you're having me do this. I already filled out the forms at the club, and I know you read them."

"_Sir_," he corrected. His knuckles popped as he twisted his fists on the steering wheel.

"Sir, Sir, Sir . . . Fuck. I'm never gonna remember. It sounds so foreign and unnatural to me." She grunted a little.

"Sounds like some reinforcement is in order. I'm only too happy to help you in that regard." He inhaled, his thoughts drifting to what she was doing right now, and more important, how perfect she probably looked, naked and in position. "Are you waiting on your cushion by the door?"

"I am, _Sir_," she retorted.

"_Naked_, little one. I'm not gonna tolerate you ignoring my instructions. I give them for a reason," he said.

"Yes, I'm naked, and I do trust that you don't give arbitrary directions, but this all so new to me, Sir. I don't know when I'm offending you most of the time. I'm just being me. How do I stop doing that? I don't want to . . . piss you off. I really do love pleasing you, but I can't seem to get it right most of the time," she huffed.

"Stop worrying about everything. You need to focus only on listening to me and keep building trust. That's it. It's very simple. And once you get used to that, you'll be amazed at how free you feel." He turned the corner and was more than halfway there. "You ready to discuss the items on the kink list?"

"No, Sir, but I'm getting there. I'll be fine," she said, her voice a little tight.

"Why is this upsetting you? We're doing this to make sure your comfort and happiness is top priority. I care about how you feel."

"I don't know why it's bothering me, I just . . ." She paused and sucked in some air. "I guess I'm worried there won't be much discussion, and I already feel like an idiot. I didn't know what half of these items were on the list and had to look them up. I should know about this stuff. I feel inadequate, naive, and unprepar—"

"That's enough of all that self-doubt. You're doing fine. I'm still here, aren't I? And I can't wait to see what you put down, because then the fun really starts."

"I guess . . ." She sniffed.

"_Sir_."

"Sir—_fuck_—I suck at this!"

He chuckled. "I think you'll feel so much better after we make this official, and I can really teach you. Punishments will help you as well. Then you can quit dwelling on all the little shit that gets you down and finally let go."

"Hoooohhhhhuuh," she exhaled, and it was so fucking sexy, he was throbbing.

"Don't move off that cushion unless it's to unlock the door if you didn't already leave it that way for me," he said.

There was a pause and a distinct _cliiiick._

He laughed.

She'd forgotten and just unlocked it.

"It's not a big deal, so stop beating yourself up. I'm on my way, and I'm so fucking hard, you wouldn't believe."

"Deep throat at your service, Sir."

His laugh traveled lower, and he felt it in his thighs.

"I love your enthusiasm. That's not something I can teach you," he said. He glanced down at his dick trying to bust out of his pants. How was he going to keep from fucking her tonight?

"Really? Sir, you're not saying that to make me feel better, right? You really mean it?"

He could almost picture her big doe eyes, searching him out for the truth.

"I don't lie, little one, and especially not with you when your trust is so hard to earn. I mean it. All of it, my beautiful little subbie." He was rounding her block now. "I've got something for you, and you're going to accept it graciously, are we clear?"

"Yes, Sir. I'll try my best," she answered.

"I know you will. Make me proud as usual. See you in a few."

He ended the call.

The second he was parked in front of her place and at her door, he was breathing so hard and could barely think of anything other than her being completely naked in front of him for the first time.

He'd touched her tits, groped her ass, fucked her face, and fingered her, but she hadn't been offered to him this way yet.

There was so much to teach her.

_Cllllluuuup._

He turned the doorknob and let himself in.

"Sir?" she gasped, her voice strangled.

"Yes, little one. It's me. Keep your eyes down."

He closed the door behind him, locked it and set her gift aside on the coffee table. He needed to see her. All of her.

"God, I could look at this all day long . . . Stunning . . . little one. You don't even have to worry for a second about anything at all." He circled her, staring, mouthwatering, and his chest pounding. "Let's make this your waiting position for me from now on. I'll be teaching you more positions as we go, but for now, this one will do. You have no idea what this does to me—you look sexy as hell like this."

Her back arched nicely, her hands setting on her thighs and her breasts jutting out—sheer perfection.

Everything he wanted to see in a sub.

"Stand."

She rose slowly, always keeping herself in check, her gaze low.

He grabbed the gift, and handed it to her.

"Open it." He stood before her, watching every minute muscle move with a fluidity, that once again, made his mouth moisten.

She unwrapped the gift box and once it was opened, she stood and gaped.

"Sir?"

"I'm going to dress you. I want to make sure these fit," he said, pulling the items out of the box.

She frowned.

He leaned in and kissed her. "That look better because you're overcome with gratitude," he said.

She replaced the expression with a blank one.

That was worse.

"Need to safeword already?"

She shook her head.

"Speak, Isabella. While I'm dressing you, tell me what's got my angel looking like she'd rather be anywhere but here, when all I can think about is touching that gorgeous body, inhaling a luscious scent, and tasting every inch." He pulled one arm out and slipped the blouse on. She flinched and remained mute. "Speak—tell me what's going on."

" Sir, I . . ."

He slipped it over the other arm.

"I n-need a second . . ." she whispered. She looked like she was about to start hyperventilating.

He settled his hands on her shoulders. "Why? We discussed wardrobe. I need to know why this is getting to you. And I want to continue dressing you. Once I see if it fits properly, we'll take it back off."

Her spine relaxed a little, her head was held in place as stiff as possible.

"Sir, you can continue, but clothes might always be an issue with me. I'm trying to get past it, but . . ."

"Why is it an issue at all? I really want to know so I can understand how to help you with this, because as your Dom, it pleases me to help you, and I wanna make goddamn sure you're not wearing something to work that attracts other dicks. You're mine—I don't want men coming after you."

"They don't, Sir. It's never happened."

"Bullshit." He tapped her right leg, leaned over and helped her step into the loose flowing skirt.

"I was told all the time by my father that I never dressed appropriately; couldn't ever please him. I hated it when he tried to tell me what to wear to work or to church. After a while, I started purposefully going out of my way to piss him off by wearing tight, slightly revealing things. He said if I looked like a whore and acted like one, then I most assuredly was one. Sir, I know you mean well, but it ties my gut up in thousands of knots that choke me and make me want to curl in on myself and disappear."

"I see . . ." He helped her step the other leg in. "Your father's an asshole. Plain and simple, and I'm not trying to be a dickhead about this. You've been your own worst enemy up to now at work and trying to attract the wrong type of men. I'm guiding you to get you back on track. Don't think of it as me disapproving of you and trying to brainwash or control you to the point of you losing who you are. It's quite the opposite." He stood straight, ran his hands gently down the slopes and curves of her body. "You're beautiful—so stunning. I want you to look soft and feminine, like your true submissive nature. When you present yourself to others like this, they'll see you, not your tits or your gorgeous ass I can't stop thinking about." He smiled and slid his hands onto her hips. "I do this because you've lost respect for yourself. We're gonna get it back. And when you're alone with me, you'll dress like the sluttiest girl possible because only I get to see that and enjoy what a dirty girl you are under those demure layers you'll wear in public. Only I get to know the many layers of you." He let one hand drift down her leg and pull up on her skirt.

"I . . . I'll try, Sir," she said, her eyes following his hand.

"Only I'll know how wet this cunt gets, and how fucking tight it is, and only I'll get to taste it." He dropped to his knees, pushed the skirt up with his hands. "You may touch me while I taste you, but don't get used to it. I don't usually let my subs do this."

She smiled, and her eyes glistened with water and so many beautiful emotions, he got a little choked up for a moment.

"Thank you, Sir. This means a lot to me."

"I want my beautiful sub happy. I love her smile, and part of finding out who she is, will be by helping her learn to control herself and dress appropriately." He leaned in, rubbed his nose across her pubis and inhaled deeply. "Smells like a horny slut, wanting to be fucked by her Dom. Is that what this juicy cunt wants?" His nose ran back and forth, her soft curls tickling his nose. He chuckled at the delicious feel of it.

"This girl's cunt wants only to please Sir, and he can determine what it needs," she said, her voice soft and shaky.

"Good girl. Such a smart one." He parted her legs a little wider with his hands, and massaged her inner thighs, still using the tip of his nose to drag across her mons.

"Thank you, Sir." She stood still, but was biting her lip in anticipation of more.

"This pussy want a finger inside? Is it gonna be greedy?"

"_Sir _. . ." She moaned softly, her legs started to tremble a little.

"Lie down, present yourself to me in slut position. You don't have to hold onto your legs. You may still touch me if you wish," he said.

She slid down to the ground, went onto her back and within seconds, had her legs spread so incredibly wide, his dick bobbed. God, she was flexible, and that pussy was one of the most beautiful he'd ever seen.

He liked that it wasn't bare, but that she kept everything neat and trim.

Before dropping down to taste her, he simply stood and stared.

"What color are we? I didn't undress you." His hands were on his hips.

"Green again, Sir. Now that I know what you intend with the clothes and it's not because you think I'm inept or disgusting, it'll be easier for me to go along . . ."

"Do you know how fucking proud I am of you?" He smiled so wide, his neck was almost straining. Had he ever been this proud of a sub before? Sure, they each had soft limits pushed by him, but she had to overcome so many of her own insecurities and years' worth of lies told to her, that it was impressive she was able to trust him this much already.

"N-no, Sir. You're proud?"

"I am. So much, and you'll be rewarded." He dropped to the floor, and prowled after her.

The second his tongue curled around her clit, she gasped and her back bowed.

"Touch me, Isabella. I want your hands on me, even if it's just in my hair. Show me you want me, and I'll have your come now. All of it." He flattened himself on the ground and ran his nose up her clit, pushing the hood back. And that's when his slow, sexy assault began on her cunt.

Her fingers were tentative at first, barely touching his hair, but once he couldn't hold back and his tongue was shoving into her slit, she was tugging and yanking with each soft cry of pleasure she emitted.

"Such a soft cunt, like it's owner. Beautiful, sweet, and always waiting for more, begging silently, but never expecting to get it. This pussy deserved nothing but pleasure. Stop thinking you're not worth it," he breathed into her slick folds. He blew across them.

She choked on her breath for a second then released an exhale that sounded so erotic and pained with too much pleasure, he could feel the pre-come, leaking at his tip.

"You're gonna gush for me, little one. You're gonna squirt so much, and I'm gonna drink it all; I won't be thirsty for a long time."

She nodded her head, and her fingers drifted over his temples and she fingered along his hairline. "Okay, Sir."

"Fucking yeah, it's okay. Let go of your ideas of who you thought you were—get out of the way of your body." He rubbed his nose on her. "Give me everything—that's what I demand, because I love the little bits you've already given me. All of it—Isabella. Every fucking last drop." He grinned with a wicked look in his eyes, and dipped his head down, nipping at that swollen, pink clit.

Her ragged breathing made him even harder.

She was ready. Her body couldn't be more his, the way she relaxed and tightened at the command of his lips and hands.

His finger rimmed her opening, and toyed with her a little more.

"Gawwwwd," she whimpered.

"Seeing him already, are you? Damn, I'm good," he teased, chuckling.

She had no response, she could barely keep from tearing his hair out at this point, her grip was so tight on each strand.

He pressed the flat of his tongue on her clit and held it there, enjoying the throbbing feel of her tender flesh on his tongue. She was so engorged and so wet, he growled at the sensations. The taste was exquisite, and he could imagine how his big cock would be encompassed so tightly by this wet cunt.

He slipped two fingers inside, curled them straight into that G spot.

"Fuuuuuck!" she squealed so faintly, he almost didn't hear it.

"Later. Right now, I'm rewarding this pussy." He flattened his two fingers, rubbing little circles on her sponge. It swelled nicely, and when he pressed into it, she gushed softly.

"Fuck if that's not the sexiest thing ever," he said, his voice husky and filled with so much longing—he couldn't hide it in his tone any longer. He wanted this little one so much. She was all he thought of anymore.

Her hips tilted up and thrusted with his movements, making it a little more difficult to make her spray.

He gripped one of her hips to hold her down, swatted her ass and growled.

"Stay still; I'm in control here. You're going to squirt more because I'm not done with you," he said.

She nodded, out of breath and gasping, then her head tilted back and she let go of him.

He used three fingers this time, and was able to fatten that G spot again, and this time, when he pressed them onto that spot—Jesus, she was squirting all over his face, the fluids flying out of her.

He caught as much with his tongue as he could; his low throaty, animalistic hum, built in his chest to unbearable heights and turned almost shrill as he lapped it all up.

She trusted him—just completely let go, allowing her body to squirt.

Fuck. She was going to be even harder to get out of his head now, but somehow he didn't care.

Those pants came down a second later, and he wanted to pin her down, fuck her until he couldn't breathe, but instead, he rubbed himself up and down her lips, over her clit, until she finally came so hard and so loud, she sounded like she would fly apart.

"One more," he said.

She sighed and her body went lax.

He wanted a G spot orgasm now.

There was no stopping 'til he got it.

So those fingers were back inside her, plumping the spongy tissue again, and when she grunted and cupped his ears with her fantastic fingers, he leaned over, sucked on her clit and made her gush as her G spot sent her over the edge.

"Oh fuuuuuck, that's . . . God, I can't wait to fuck you, to be inside there, and feel you pulsing and creaming my cock. So tight—you're such a good little girl. We're gonna make that cunt even stronger," he purred.

Her body continued to convulse, and he was so strung out, so ready to come himself, he bit into her right inner thigh.

"Ahhhhhh!" she cried out, her lower back pulling away from the floor.

Shit!

His hand flew down to his cock, and he pinched the tip to keep from coming when she sounded that feral and guttural.

He used his other hand to pinch where he'd just bit.

"Ahhh-aaahhhh fuck!" she screamed again, but this one was even louder and ripped right through her. She looked like she was orgasming again.

"Holy fuck," he gasped.

She was so responsive to even a tiny bit of pain. He needed his bag of toys now!

What was she going to do when he had his nipple clamps on her?

His eyes slid up into his head, he tipped his head back and his heart pounded furiously.

He may have just met the perfect sub for him, and he hadn't even compared lists with her yet.

A growl built low in his gut. What was she doing to him? Turning him into a beast?

He closed his eyes.

Fuck. The list.

When her body finally stopped panting, and looking so insanely sexy from that climax she was still coming off of, he sighed.

"We need to go through our lists, little one." _And I hope to God we match well . . ._

He opened his eyes. His throat bobbed as he swallowed and savored the taste of her still coating his tongue.

What if they weren't suited for each other's needs? What if she had enough confidence now she found some other Dom to train her?

Another man's hands on her? Tasting this?

Hell no! He'd rip his mother fucking hands off, cut his tongue out and burn his dick in front of the entire club so they'd know . . .

_She's mine—no matter what._

**A/N:**

**In case anyone's wondering, a woman can have an ejaculation and squirt without having an orgasm. It's similar in some ways to a man's prostrate being milked when he hasn't orgasmed, only her fluids can really fly at quite an impressive length. With a man, it usually just rolls down the tip.**

**Here's a website I found interesting on the phenomenon (remove spaces). ehealthforum health/topic93433 . html#axzz2JTsLUDdg**

**Thanks for joining me on this journey. And thank you to my pre-readers. They're help is invaluable—keeping this story as honest as possible, and that means the world to me!**

**Chanse**


	14. Chapter 14

**Chapter 14**

When he stopped torturing her with his tongue, doing crazy things with his lips and fingering her, she was able to catch her breath.

He'd barely been in her apartment for forty minutes, and she was needy and raw, it was pathetic.

Everything about him overwhelmed her. He spoke, and her heart landed in her pussy. He looked at her, and her bones melted into warm honey, coating her entire insides in this euphoria she'd never experienced before.

How would she ever get anything right when he made her head so foggy, so full of nothing but wanting to be what he needed?

She snuck a peek at him as he was trying to catch his breath as well. He was hard as she'd ever seen him, but he was making no move to do anything about it.

He kept talking about fucking her, but still hadn't.

Would he ever?

Was she doing something wrong?

He took his index finger and swiped at the corner of his mouth and then sucked his finger in. "God, you taste like everything a woman should. So fucking good."

_Paklunkhhh!_

Her heart was back in her pussy again, making it heavy and almost manic for him. Had it ever throbbed this hard before?

Breath trapped in her throat. Oh God.

She brushed her hair back out of her face. He was sick with those talented fingers and tongue. She probably looked like she'd just been fucked hard, moments ago, and all he'd done was kiss and stroke.

His tongue roamed around his lips, extending past them to get every last trace of her inside his mouth.

_No rush. This might take a while. _That was the look he gave her.

She wanted to be embarrassed, but with the sexy moaning, and pleased sounds he was making as he cleaned his finger off like a cat or some other wild animal, it was all she could do but burst inside with giddiness.

_He loves my flavor. He really does want me._

She raked her eyes over him, and as usual, her gaze landed and stopped on his stiff cock.

_When Lord? _She was going to die if he didn't fuck her soon.

"I could end my workday like this pretty much every damn day," he said, smirking at her.

"If Sir wishes . . . This girl is always available to him." She clasped her hands together and rested them in her naked lap, ignoring how wet her thighs were from his working her up to the edge, and now, she could probably add her drool to the reason for the moistness as well.

"Eating you is so delicious, little one, I have no idea why I bother with food," he said, his eyes wicked flames of desire.

Her mouth flooded, along with her panties, when he talked to her like that and looked that way. Well . . . her panties _would_ get soaked, when she was _wearing_ them.

Sir looked at her like he was ready for another round, ready to shove her back to the brink, but, honestly, as much as she loved the idea of one more, she was already feeling a little tender. He was gentle enough, but this was a lot more than she was ever used to having.

Breaking her in? Was that he was doing?

Did he think she'd do better with baby steps? Was that why he was holding back and not penetrating her with his cock?

If she was gonna be sore, she wanted it to be because his dick was doing the slamming and bruising.

"Time to get those clothes put away then we'll compare lists." He stood up then held out his hand. She took off the blouse; handed it to him.

He folded it neatly, and she stifled a snicker.

Why fold something they were going to be putting in the closet in less than thirty seconds?

She gave him the skirt next. He did the same.

So did she.

He gave a mock glare, and then helped her off the floor as well.

"Show me your closet," he said.

She smiled, pushed her gaze back to floor so she could think.

When she looked at those dark green, mesmerizing eyes, all she could think of was getting him naked, having his dick inside her, and him saying the nastiest, dirtiest things ever to her.

He never seemed to shy away from calling her his slut, talking about her wet cunt and what he wanted to do to her.

A series of waves like electricity, raced down her several times as she walked him to her closet, and all he was doing was placing his palm on the small of her back. But his fingers were still damp from being inside her and then alternately in his mouth.

Jesus, what was he doing to her? He was going to make her lightheaded at the rate this was going.

"This is my closet. I cleared out a section like you asked, Sir. I hope I made enough room. I wasn't sure how much you needed." She stepped inside her walk-in and waited for him to join her.

"Step out. I need to get a feel for this without you distracting me with those tits," he said.

She fought off another wave of sweeping adrenaline when he touched her arm and maneuvered her back out of the space.

Since he didn't say what he wanted her to do while she waited, she went to the foot of her bed, grabbed the throw blanket off the end, set it down on the ground and kneeled on it with her arms in box pose behind her.

The temptation was too great anymore to touch him. She didn't trust herself to have her hands in front of her body, and maybe . . . Hold on—he just said something about her tits. Maybe this would make them look better? More pronounced? Would he maybe finally capitulate and shove that dick in her?

She smiled at the dirty images her mind was conjuring of how he might end this torment for her.

But then as he cursed in her closet, stepped out, approaching her, she went stiff.

Shit. What if she was doing it wrong? She didn't really know what she was doing. And he hadn't said.

He sounded frustrated with her by the way he breathed so harshly and in sporadic gusts of what she imagined to be hot, angry air.

Her bottom lip sucked in and she gnawed on it, kept her head real low, so he couldn't see how her eyes were misting. Her stomach rolled and tightened.

What if he already thought she was a fuck up?

_He cursed just now—didn't you hear him? You couldn't follow a few simple instructions and even get a fucking closet right. You'll never please a Dom. You can't even handle a vanilla man. Look at Doug . . ._

She sucked in a breath through her nostrils, kept her head motionless but closed her eyes. Her head was spinning and she was edging on nauseous.

When she opened them a few seconds later, Sir's black shoes were right before her gaze, a few inches away from her bent knees.

"You're trying to make me come in my pants, aren't you?" He chuckled. "God—do you know how good you look like that? How much I want to tear into you and come in every hole of that body of yours?" There was a low growl and the sound of fabric moving.

She smiled, but it was a hesitant one. There was still this nagging voice, telling her he was only being nice, trying to help her—nothing more. He wasn't really interested in her beyond this Dom/sub kind of fuck-buddy situation.

Her gut cinched tight.

His hands petted her hair; a single finger of his parted through her tresses and roamed along the nape of her neck, stroking and making her lean into it. A wave of heat passed down her neck, back and breasts, then her toes went numb from the rush of feelings he evoked in her.

Blood left her extremities and rushed into her chest, making it sing and pound furiously.

"So beautiful, my treasured little sub. Never get tired of watching you," he whispered in a low husky tone.

Those feet of hers wiggled to get some feeling back, but her toes were lacking any feeling at all; that's what he did to her.

It was the oddest sensation.

Blood flow was fine until he was near and touching her.

"Stay here. I want to finish up something in your closet, and I want your gaze to stay where it is. When I return, I'll give you instructions," he said.

She nodded a little, but only enough that he'd know she'd heard him.

There was something about tuning in to him completely, and using words only when absolutely necessary that heightened everything. It was like it refined all her senses, plunging them into whatever frequency he was geared to.

After several minutes of hearing him shuffle about, grunt a few times, and hangers sliding about, she could sense he was growing more and more agitated.

"Goddammit," he groaned. "Fucking women."

She cringed, but held her posture, even if her palms were starting to sweat now, and it was becoming more difficult to remain so statuesque. Tears stabbed at the back of her eyes, so she blinked a bunch, hoping it would move air around and dry them out.

"Isabella. I love how obedient you're being, but I really need your assistance. Please, come to me now."

She rose with as much poise she could muster, but her feet were wobbly with a lack of blood flow, and with her nerves zinging over how something she'd done was pissing him off, she probably looked like a drunken vagrant, passing through, rather than a dignified sub, trying to win over her Dom's approval and affections.

What could be so offensive in her closet?

When she tripped a little, entering the space, he steadied her, and the warmth from his hands, was like a jolt to her now chilled skin. Her hands immediately clasped behind her back so she wouldn't grab at him.

"You wanna explain this to me?" He pointed up at the clothes.

Several pairs of men's clothes, in various sizes in random types of garments, hung in front of her.

"Uh . . . I . . . S-Sir, I . . ." She gulped; her eyes went wide. Fuck! She hadn't even realized these were all mixed in with her clothing.

"Tell me now, why my fucking submissive, has men's clothes that are not mine, hanging in her very personal, private space." He set his hands on his hips.

"I forgot they were . . . even in h-here," she stammered.

"Who's is this?" he asked, yanking down a pair of jeans.

"Doug's," she answered so quick, she almost bit her tongue.

"The prick that broke your heart?"

She nodded.

He chucked them over her head. Next a jersey came down off a hanger. "And is this his too? It looks about the same size."

"I can send them back to him if you wish, Sir," she blurted.

"Why would I give him the satisfaction of contact with _you_?" His eyes burned into her like a bitch slap, making her neck jerk back.

Her shoulders folded in on her ears and her chin was almost at her chest.

"Look at me." He exhaled. "I'm not disappointed in you; I'm only pissed at this situation."

She whimpered. "S-sorry, Sir."

"For what? Getting caught with this stash of past boyfriends; past mistakes? Or for not having enough confidence in yourself to realize you don't need these reminders?"

"I . . ." Her lips quivered. "I don't kn-now," she said, shrinking in on herself as her chest caved in.

"Dammit! You deserve better." He gripped her by the upper arms, but it was oddly sensual, like he was making love to her in that moment. "And I want you to see that."

Her bones went to jelly, and she almost collapsed. "I want to do right by you, Sir. I _am_ trying." It was hard to breathe, hard to believe she was this big a fuck up.

"Trying is what you do when you're taking a test. This is not a fucking test, Isabella. This is your _life_. Your _heart_. Your _breath_. This shit—" he motioned over his shoulder with his head "—is pollution. It's toxic to you. It's you holding onto something that has nothing to do with who you really are. I want you to get rid of it, and you're not to return it to the original owners. They won't remember you even have it. Throw it out, burn it, or bury it. I don't give a fuck—but it's to be out of your house before you go to bed tonight."

She blinked twice and held her breath. Her nod was tiny, but it must have been enough since he released her arms.

She kept her gaze on his chest. Any lower, and she'd cry.

He was right before her, but even more out of reach than the men that owned these clothes she'd never see again and didn't even know where they were.

"I've set up a system here for you," he shared. "On the left are your work approved clothes. There's not much here I was able to salvage. So, each day, you'll be getting a box of clothes from me that you can add into the rotation. You're to try them on immediately when they come to you. Let me know if they don't fit. If they're the right size, then you mix and match with what you've got in this section I've provided. I'm going to treat you like a proper lady who is respected and respects herself, and you'll act accordingly. If you ignore me on this, you'll be punished." He pointed to the right side of the space. "These are your day-to-day clothes you can wear when I'm not around." Then he turned around, pointed at the drawers. "These are specifically what pleases me. These you'll wear when I'm here with you. If I want a specific color, you'll find it. If I want it slutty, you'll find the flimsiest, thinnest piece of material in there you own. If you defy me on this one, you'll find your ass naked almost twenty-four seven. Clothing around me is a privilege. Show me you deserve it." He exhaled. "The rest I've already thrown in a pile I'll be removing for you." He motioned to a bag in the corner of the closet, filled with her clothes he found distasteful.

Her back was stiff, her chest aching and her fingers curled into her palms—they wanted to touch him, to beg him to like her at least a little bit. "Yes, Sir, and thank you for doing this for me." She sucked in a quiet, stuttering breath.

"You're welcome. Keep it in this general order, and you should be fine with no confusion at all."

Her brow furrowed. Shit. He hadn't covered everything.

"What has you looking like I just dressed you against your will again?" He settled a hand on her shoulder, and then his other hand ran a few strands of hair behind her right ear. "I want to know what's going on in that head of yours. Have I already upset you?"

"Uh, no. I guess, um, I was just wondering . . ." Her jaw tensed. "Shoes, Sir? You didn't mention those."

He chuckled. "Well, unless you're into stripper heels, and I didn't see any of those, you should be fine."

She sighed, and her shoulders deflated back into a neutral position.

"Oh good," she murmured. "I'm glad you didn't have to worry about those, too."

He chuckled. "I'm not trying to be a hard-ass. I'm trying to take you to a very specific place in your life, and to do that, we have to get rid of your past stumbling blocks. The way you present yourself on the outside while in public, speaks volumes about who you believe you are on the inside." He grabbed the rest of the men's clothes and dropped them on the makeshift pile he'd been creating. "_Gone_." He pointed at them. "Tonight."

"I will, Sir. I'll take care of it."

He leaned in and kissed her ear. "I know you will, because you're a good submissive like that. And you're so good at trying to constantly please me."

She smiled, her lips puckered a little and she blew out an exhausted puff of waning air.

"Time to compare lists," he said. "Back out into the living room after you've put on whatever clothes you want. I'm going to give you the option of picking something that'll set you at ease. I want you relaxed as much as possible for this." He tipped her chin up. "And please stop worrying. You didn't do anything wrong. Actually, I'm glad that's all I found."

She swallowed. Okay, this wasn't as bad as she'd anticipated, and he wasn't upset with her. She could do this—the rest of this.

He smiled softly and left her standing before her closet, naked and feeling a little lost. She'd never be able to figure out what the hell to wear because, dammit, she still wanted to wear something he'd enjoy.

She blew a few strands of hair out of her face.

Why couldn't she pull it together?

Eventually she settled on some stretchy yoga pants, a fitted stretchy tee shirt and some socks, in case her feet went numb again from those heated looks he gave her.

The last time that happened, it was tied directly to him, not really having to do with the position she was in. It was her body's way of dealing with the intense reactions she got when she simply heard him respond to anything at all having to do with her.

With a sluggish, mortifying pace, she made her way out into the living room.

What was her problem?

She wanted this more than she wanted to breathe, yet she was scared half to death.

_Eyes to the floor, girl. Call him Sir. Don't come on the couch simply by looking at his gorgeous face._

She chanted instructions to herself over and over again to keep her composure she barely held onto.

As soon as she sat on the couch, he scooted closer, and his warm hand felt almost like a branding iron on her thigh, especially the tips of his fingers that lightly squeezed her inner flesh.

"Hhh-hhhooo-oooh." Her stilted breath struggled to release with her stomach spasming like that.

"Nervous?"

"A little, Sir, but I'm sure you'll make this as painless as possible," she said, swallowing back a tight smile, and fighting off the urge to let a girly giggle escape.

Men didn't like it when women giggled. Hadn't her father pounded that into her?

_Yeah, and he said they don't like dirty sluts either, yet Edward calls you that with pride._

Her gut felt stapled into place, like it was trying to flee this place; break it's bonds, but it wouldn't budge.

Bile tickled at the back of her throat.

"I need some water," she blurted.

"I have some for you already," he said, motioning to the end table next to the couch right next to where she was sitting.

"Oh . . . Uh, thanks," she said, but it sounded like a question.

_Quit sounding like a timid, wounded mouse!_

He chuckled. "Bella . . . I don't bite, not during this part anyway. That comes after." His dark seductive voice was like a danger sign, leading her into a pit she hoped to never escape from.

Her thigh twitched. He squeezed again and his laugh lowered into his belly and legs, making them move a little.

Did the heat in his hand go from scorching to pure fire? Because she swore it was stinging and throbbing, burning her like a motherfucker now. Everything inside her pricked and was contracting.

"Take a drink. Read while you're swallowing. I know you can do more than one thing while swallowing. I've seen you do it," he purred, his voice a thick raspberry swirl of chocolate mouse and sensuality, coating her mouth, making the wetness inside her pool. It traveled down her throat and landed in her pussy while she remembered sucking him off and doing anything else he wanted her to, simultaneously.

She squirmed for a second, grabbed the glass, and though her mind instructed her to sip, she was gulping that fluid down like she was deathly parched.

"Slow, down, sweetheart. I want you breathing when we're done with this. I have some things I wanna show you," he said. "Need you to stay alive."

Her eyes roamed over to his face, and his smile acted like a mouse trap on her heart, snapping it and keeping it snared in place, just like her stomach felt. It was like he knew exactly what to say, what look to give, to entrap her entire soul, her vital organs, and her tongue.

She could barely breathe at this point, let alone speak.

His hand caressed her thigh in a reassuring manner.

Or that's what she told herself.

Reassuring? Or _taunting_?

His brows rose.

None of his actions right then did anything to reassure her, because she was having a hard time holding it together.

"You're pale. Do I need to feed you first before we begin?" he asked.

"N-no, Sir. I don't think I could eat right now."

"_That_ nervous?" he asked.

She nodded and her eyes fixated on his mouth. Oh, God, how she'd die to have that mouth on her slick, wet, waiting folds.

"What are you most nervous about?" He leaned forward, released his hold on her leg and grabbed the papers off the couch, set next to him on the other side.

The smooth way he moved, barely making a sound on her leather sofa, wasn't just impressive, it was mesmerizing. Did he have some power over leather, to keep it from making all sorts of obscene sounds? Because all she had to do was shift her leg, and it sounded horrendous.

Her toes curled at the thought of him bending her over the arm of the furniture, pulling her pants and panties down just enough to enter her. The idea was so hot, she had to go up on tiptoe, to force her feet to behave and keep the blood flow going.

"E-everything, and nothing." She rubbed the side of her jaw onto her shoulder, her eyes stuck on the paper he was now handing her. "Sir," she tacked on at the end. _Inexperience . . . Not wanting to look like an utter idiot. And wanting you so bad, it aches deep down inside._

A white light of heat spread through the bottom of her stomach all at once. She'd remembered to say it—_Sir_! It came on its own. Wow! Did he notice?

He smiled. "Why? What does everything and nothing mean to you?" he asked, rounding his fingers under her chin, and tickling, teasing with the enticing appeal of one who didn't have to prove a damn thing in regards to skill and prowess. It just _was_ . . . there. Always there.

Heat flared.

Nipples tightened.

And a torrential flood took place.

Shit.

A wet spot on the leather couch?

That was gonna be obvious and very unattractive.

Her cheeks heated, and her lips quivered.

She bit her bottom inner lip and gnawed for a second, then thought better of it.

He'd see that.

She closed her eyes, let her mind go back to a place she used to always feel safe—her gymnastic classes, growing up.

Her teacher always praised her, yet he was hardest on her because he told her she had the most potential.

She smiled, until she remembered how her dad disapproved of the disturbing outfits and makeup.

That was the first time he called her a shameless, unforgivable whore.

She was twelve at the time.

In a rush, and a blink, her words came tumbling out. "I'm scared, not because of the words on that list, but because of exactly how much I'd be willing to do for you." Her chest concaved as she pulled in a fighting chance to breathe and to live. After a long, naked need to get it out, she managed to continue, "It hurts that you care, Edward. More so than the thought of you being apathetic, which I think sometimes maybe you are inside? But it's the idea that maybe I'm wrong. And I exposed myself so thoroughly on that paper, that now you'll know exactly how abased and disgusting I am. I want almost everything on there, with you, anyway. And though I don't consider myself a pain slut, but for you," her eyes shifted up, "well, I . . . Y-yeah, I found I was willing to do a whole hell of a lot more than I ever dreamed. You do something to me. I can't even describe it." He smiled. She tucked her hands under her rump, behind her and kept going, "It scares me that you have so much power over me, when men don't love me. They never have. I don't know what I do wrong. I love every damn little detail about them—the way they say my name. The way their Adam's apple bobs when they talk to me. The flex of a forearm, a thought they share about the weather. I want all of it, and the idea that you might actually want to be in my head at all—a crazy place to be—terrifies me to death, because I want to give you every last damn fucking firing neuron. And I worry you won't like it once you get inside there all the way."

"Breathe, little one." He smiled so warmly, that it made her almost hyperventilate, and her vagina actually flinched in response.

She tipped her head forward between her knees. "I'm a mess, Sir." Her voice echoed up between her thighs and trapped like a smoggy, polluted cloud at the apex of her eyes. "And I'm sorry . . . I don't like being this way."

He inched toward her and his hands rubbed up and down like an erotic dance on her neurotic spine.

"Why would you ever want me at all?" she asked, shaking her head for letting that comment slip.

That _comment? How about the last thousand comments you made, moron? Of course he doesn't want you; hasn't fucked you yet, has he? You're a stammering, simpering mess and he—_

"Stop. No more putting yourself down; I can't stand it. It sickens me, Bella. I know you're already beating yourself up inside." He grabbed the nape of her neck and shook her side to side a little.

She was so loose from his simple touch, it was ridiculous how she swayed about like a rag doll.

"God," she moaned.

"Kiss me. Sit up right now, touch me if you want, but kiss me. I want you to see exactly how I feel about you. No words will tell you that." His grip acted like a puppet string, ordering her where to go.

It brought her straight to him, and she shamelessly clung to his chest, climbing up his body and draping herself over him, cocooning herself around his long legs and broad chest.

Each gentle, insistent kiss from him, set her free.

Warm press of lips, translated into so many feelings for her.

_I love you_, they said.

_I want you_, they grated across her heart, making it rawer than it already was.

_I need you, and I'll never let you go._

"Hhhhhiiiiiaaahhhh," she released a pounding, opposing breath to her still lingering self-deflating thoughts.

"Figure it out yet?" he asked, his tone husky and his hands curling around hers that were clutched to his shirt.

"I th-think so, Sir . . . Damn, I've never ever been kissed like that." Her eyes flooded, tears sprang forth and sparked her to confess, "I have this battle inside me, waging a war for my heart. I think your kisses are winning though." She cringed at how stupid she sounded.

He smiled. "So damn beautiful . . ."

"_Me_, Sir?" she squeaked, her head tipped back to soak up his attention, all of it.

"Yes, you. I dream of you. I think about you. You consume me every second of every hour of every day. There's something about you that pulls at me." He pulled her face toward him, kissed the tip of her nose then ran the tip of his up the side of hers, and he planted a deeply erotic kiss on her forehead. "So let's read these fucking lists so I can stop pussying around and touch you the way I want to."

He was holding back? She was right?

A light warmed up her insides, and flooded her soul with heat and a burning that erupted through her veins.

Her hands curled into his chest.

He pulled them off him and set her back in her seat.

"Read," he ordered, pointing to his list he'd filled out then set it on her lap.

She devoured it in less time than it took to say her nightly prayers.

He seemed to be doing the same with her list as well.

It was—holy shit! His words. Christ! . . . She was lightheaded.

"Nothing can stop me from having you now," he said. "We match, sweetheart. You don't like a lot of pain, and I don't like giving a lot of it. There's nothing here that screams at me that this won't work." His body almost rounded over hers. "Except that you say you have ultra-sensitive nipples and think that might be a problem." His hand, like a current, washed over her right tit, and he pinched her nipple so hard and so fast, that it knocked the breath out of her. "I think it's a very good problem to have."

Her head snapped back, and she bit back a cry of extreme pleasure.

"You know what happens when I touch them like this?" He held her with his powerful, hungry gaze.

"Nuh uh," she grunted.

"You come." He paused and shifted forward. "You come hard, and you don't just like _it_, you fucking love _it_," he growled. He tongued her earlobe then nibbled on it. "And you want it all the time."

She gasped.

His tongue plunged inside and did the most ridiculously lewd things ever.

Or at least that's what her brain told her because it was like he was fucking her ear, making her body succumb already.

"O-okay," she managed to choke out.

"And when I put clamps on them," he breathed and slid his tongue along the grooves and cartilage of her ear, "it's gonna send you straight back to heaven where you belong. Fuck—can't wait to see you soar like that, little angel."

"M-me either," she stammered.

Her palms sweat and her damn toes were curling again, forgetting they were supposed to have feeling in them.

"C'mon, sweetheart. Time to play."

"Here, now?" she asked, her head tipping back so far, she was bumping it into the top of the couch.

"Yes, now. I brought a few surprises for you. You're going to go back to your bedroom, lie face-down on the floor, legs and arms spread out in a wide X, but only after you put something else on. I set it in your top drawer in your closet. Put it on—wearing nothing else—then assume the position I told you." His hand roamed over her forehead then back through her hair.

Chills broke out across her zinging scalp.

"Yes, Sir. Can't wait to be yours." _Oh, please don't break me . . ._

Her eyes were half closed, and she soaked up that beautiful, heartbreaking face.

He already _was_ breaking her.

There was no way he couldn't.

He was devastatingly, achingly perfect and everything a man should ever be.

Everything about him screamed unobtainable to a gal like her.

He prodded her up to standing, and her feet felt like dead weight as she shuffled on her own back to her bedroom.

Exactly as he'd said, in her drawer was a box that said slave harness.

_Faluuhhhmp!_

Her stomach flopped and plummeted, landing in her toes, now digging into the carpeting.

Slave?

_Harness_?

What the fuck was she doing, thinking she could pull this off? Did he think of her as a slave?

She bent over, eying it cautiously. Then in a frightening speed, her fingers ripped through that fucking cardboard so quick, her heart was racing and ready to fly off at a moment's notice.

Holy fucking God and all his glory.

This was insane.

She pulled out the black leather-looking, strappy-thing.

This was supposed to go on her body?

It slipped along her fingers; smooth and shiny.

When she read the instructions and it said PVC, she thought she might pass out.

She was going to wear something made of a material she thought was only meant for plumbing?

Was this allowed? This was surreal.

She swallowed the fluids pooling at the back of her throat once more.

Without another thought, she stripped down and managed to get this contraption on. If she took too long, he might come looking for her, and who knew what that would mean for her.

She shook off a wave of chills.

The harness had three horizontal straps: one that went around the neck, one beneath her now trembling breasts, and one that hugged around her ample sized hips.

There were buckles and D-rings all over the place. And the G-string type of metal chain, the two of them, actually, running from her hips past her vaginal lips and hooking in the back, made her ass heat and tingle. Reminded her of a woman's necklace, decorating and pointing toward her breasts, only this one cut through the shit, and passed straight through her labia, making an almost gushing sound when she moved or shifted about.

Lovely.

What on earth did he have planned for her?

Her eyes glazed over as she put away the clothes she'd been wearing into the hamper then immediately went back into her room and prostrated herself on the ground, taking on the very vulnerable position he'd described. She wasn't sure where in the room he wanted her, so she tried to find an inconspicuous spot, in the corner.

Several moments later, he walked in, and it sounded like he was dragging something along.

She had purposefully turned her head away from the door, so she could stare at the wall and not be overwhelmed with his presence.

A low hum emanated out of him, and he sounded so happy, her entire body melted right into the carpeting.

This was what she'd never achieved before with any man—a sense of contentment from them.

This was opposite from the sounds he'd made when he'd been in her closet.

Had she done something right for once?

Her heart swelled and almost felt like it was overflowing. She was good. She could do this.

Her face contorted and broke into so many elated emotions, she could barely contain the tears.

"Comfy, little one?" he asked, sounding amused.

"Very, Sir."

"Good, because I'll be a few more minutes here. I'll try to make it fast so you don't have to wait too long."

She heard the distinct sound of screws being threaded into wood.

Her room was large and spacious, but whatever he was working on, sounded huge and unyielding, and like it took a lot of effort to put together.

He sang as he puttered around, and his voice was unreal.

It was raspy, it was hard hitting, and made her heart flutter and her pussy clench repeatedly.

Was there anything about him she _didn't_ like?

Suddenly, there was an unexpected shuffling of feet behind her, and his bare feet brushed up against her inner thighs.

"Sheer perfection—you spread out like this all delicious and not self-conscious at all," he said, and she could feel the heat of his stare, traveling up her body.

She somehow nuzzled her neck into the harness and ground it into the floor, as if she was begging it to keep her there and from having an out-of-body experience.

Her eyes were heavy when she blinked slowly and deliberately.

"Okay, little one, I'm gonna bend you at the hips so you're propped up into a V. I want you to close your eyes, and glue your hips to mine once I have you up," he instructed.

His hands went to her hips, and they gripped her tightly.

Her legs were weak from his touch, but she somehow managed to do what he'd said.

"How does that feel?" he asked, pulling her up into a bent position.

"Mmm . . ." she responded.

She got a nice blood rush to the head. It was amazing.

Then he had her standing up much sooner than she would've liked.

"And now?"

"Good, Sir. Green. I like it," she said, her eyes closed tight. He was flush up against her backside.

"I like to hear that." He sniffed at her neck, making goose bumps break out across her skin there. "God, you smell good and so aroused, it's almost impossible to concentrate with you this close to me."

She smiled so hard, it almost made her eyelids unfuse from each other.

"You like that?"

"Yes," she replied without delay.

"I'll keep that in mind," he said. "Now, do you feel steady? I wanted you up against my body until you've got your bearings. Do you think you can stand up straight on your own? I'm going to place something against your backside. It might be a little cold and jarring at first, but you should adjust rather quickly." His hands roamed over her ribs.

"Yeah, I can handle that, Sir. I'm excited to see what you have in store for me, too," she said.

"I can tell. Now, no more talking, unless you really need to communicate something to me. I need to focus, and it's not only your tits that distract me."

He slowly stepped away from her.

Her eyebrow quirked up, but she remained silent and blind with her eyes shut.

He gave a throaty laugh. "Yeah, it's pretty much everything, including that sexy voice of yours."

She thought she heard the distinct sound of him palming himself. He was still dressed when her body was pressed up against his—_dammit_. She wanted his flesh. When would he give it to her—all of it?

Was he still going to withhold and avoid actual intercourse?

She shivered at the thought of him pounding into her, forcing her to take his come inside her body by merely commanding she spread her legs for him.

Already her hips felt spongy, ready to shape and mold to his body.

"Keep your eyes closed." His steady, unwavering control was like a hit to her system, drugging her up.

Her mind was fuzzy, but she could keep her eyes shut no problem. She was so heavy and limp, yet her body somehow stayed erect because Sir told her to.

"Almost there," he said.

_Drag, draaag, draaag . . ._

Her ears perked up a little, but then the sound of his humming, almost comatosed her lazy brain.

His hands manipulated her center of gravity at will.

Before she knew it, her legs were up against a leather padded upside down V shaped piece of furniture.

The D-rings at her waist were deftly attached to the apparatus in question.

Was this some kind of sex chair with a dildo that would attach and fuck her to death?

She'd seen those before. Alice had sent her emails as jokes with crude attachments of women looking like they were dying as those nasty looking dildos had penetrated them over and over.

No thanks. So impersonal.

"Every girl needs a song to float to," he said a moment later, and her bedroom filled with Franz Liszt's music. She knew his piano pieces fairly well. The song _Love Dream _hovered around her, kissing at her ears and seducing her to fall further, and be even more transfixed by Sir and his way of lulling her into a dream land.

Love dream was right.

She already was caught in his world of dreams.

God, it was so romantic and almost unnerving the way Sir knew exactly what she needed to dissolve into him.

"Ready for the top half?" he asked.

"Yes, Sir. I'm ready," she replied, moistening her lips and rubbing them together.

"Such a good submissive—keeping her eyes closed and remaining ready for all I want to do to her."

She smiled through a sudden inhale that ballooned up out of her diaphragm.

_Shhhhriiiiig, _A hinge squeaked faintly.

"I made this furniture," he said out of nowhere. His fingers brushed up her navel, and then he had her top half bent back at a slight angle. She was secured to the same kind of padding up top, her body spread out like an X like she had been on the floor mere moments ago. "You're the first that gets to try it. It's on a hinge at the middle. Most St. Andrew's Crosses can only move at the bottom on a hinge, but it's all in one piece. I find it rather limiting." His lips ghosted over her shoulder, and _snaaaap, snaaaap, snaaaap_.

Her torso was glued in place, snug and attached to the furniture by the other D rings in her harness.

"Open your eyes, little one. I need to see you," he said.

The music swelled and transcended any fears she had pent up inside her.

Her lids lifted like a curtain being removed from her foggy mind.

"Still here?" he asked, smirking.

"Always with _you_, Sir, yes. There's nowhere else I'd rather be," she said, out of breath. He was so far away.

_Touch me . . ._

"Nervous?"

"Not anymore, Sir. Should _I_ be?"

"Not if you trust me and like unspeakable pleasure, no." His lopsided grin turned up to full volume, and her legs were wet now.

She tried to nod, but even her neck was restrained. Her eyes traced down his body to his thick cock, also restrained behind damned fucking fabric—in the way of what she dreamed to be unimaginable, unspeakable bliss.

"Time to send you flying," he said.

He placed a blindfold over her eyes, and it began.

His lips sucked, bit and somehow tightened her nipples beyond belief. Once they were both cold and hard, and aching for more, he cinched them even tighter. Even though they did hurt, she loved the way he pinched and rolled them. Her pussy had never pulsated this violently from nipple play before.

Had Doug and the others been absolute idiots when it came to a woman's breasts? She bit her tongue to keep from screaming at the delicious torture.

Each time her neck tried to arch back, the restraint somehow tugged it back down.

"Exhale, sweetheart," he said.

And with a groan, her legs trembled, and something cold and clamped onto her right nipple.

"Mmmgggguuuuuhhhh," she moaned, and went up on her tiptoes.

"Oh, fuck, that's beautiful," he breathed. "I love seeing you like this—your nipples at my command."

She choked on a whimper.

Then the left nipple was pinched, and her mind about exploded with a million thoughts, engulfed by warmth and the vision of him finally fucking her into oblivion, a place she wanted so bad, her heart clenched harder than her nips, being bit.

He moved around her, circling, making a breeze pass over her body.

She wished she could see him.

Then he stilled in front of her a few seconds later.

_Fluuuuupd._

_Fluuuuupd._

_Fluuuuupd._

Shit. That was amazing.

Something was touching her skin, flicking at it, making it pulse and heat and prickle.

Air swirled and rushed around her each time.

Was he flogging her?

Her head lolled, but only as far as the neck restraint would allow her.

"Relax into it, sweetheart. I want you to let go," he lilted.

Let go more? How? She was already slipping into some airy space where she could barely hear him anymore.

It was like being under water, only floating and so lifted, she was nothing but euphoric.

_Fluuuuupd._

"Mmmmmnnn," she hummed.

Her joints melted.

_Fluuuuupd._

Oh God.

_Eeeerk._

She was tilted a little forward on her top half, her hands flopping.

_Fluuuuupd._

Oh, please . . . Again . . .

Her lips parted.

Something wet dripped down her thigh.

"Mmm, there's that smell again I adore," he purred. His lips brushed over her cheek.

Music surrounded her, taking her to an even higher place in the sky.

_Fluuuuupd._

_Fluuuuupd._

Her legs tingled as the wisps brushed across her legs. The two chains surrounding her pussy were tugged and went snug, slipping up inside her folds.

"Ahhhh!" she rasped. Blows were raining down everywhere in rapid succession, moving to a different, unexpected spot on her each time. There was no way to anticipate any of them. Her skin was on fire, and it consumed her mind, turning it into a blazing piece of mush.

"Fffffffuuuuuck," he rasped. "Beautiful."

Her lips parted. Legs tried to spread further.

Her clit was so sensitive and being slowly slapped by something soft, yet hard, and so fucking yummy, she was seconds away from having her body explode.

Right there . . .

_Fluuuuupd._

_Fluuuuupd._

"Ffffffsssssuuhh," she sucked in a wailing gasp.

"Don't come yet," he warned, his breath pelting her face, then it was gone.

More. A little more.

_Fluuuuupd._

_Fluuuuupd._

Her swallow echoed in her ears so loud, it was hard to hear what he was saying at this point.

Something about holding her breath, because this was gonna sting a little for a moment?

She tried to shake her head, but her neck muscles were gone.

"'Kay," she murmured. Or did she?

_Fuuuuoooohf. Fuuuuoooohf. Fuuuuoooohf._

Was he . . . ? Something was moving on her right breast.

"Ohhh!" she yelped suddenly when the pressure was released.

Her right nipple burned and she could feel it swelling with a rush of blood! It throbbed, and then traveled directly to her clit.

"It . . . Oh fuck . . ." She took a deep breath, when she felt the tug at her right nipple, and then a weight was gone.

_Fuuuuoooohf. Fuuuuoooohf. Fuuuuoooohf._

"Gaaaawd!" she cried for a second, and her back tried to arch and pull her chest away from him, but he still had her leaning forward, bound in place, and the weight of the clamps due to gravity in this position, made them pull a little more when he was touching them and taking them off.

"Almost done, little one—deep breath," he said. "One more."

She could hear a smug smile in his voice.

"Again? Unngh!" she gritted.

He chuckled and smacked her thigh. "Now, now," he said. "It's gonna feel good; you know it will." He pinched around her areola a second later. "Be nice, little one."

"Nnnnaaaahhhh . . ." she groaned as the left nipple was freed.

His hands instantly warmed her nipples that were trying to come back to life.

Next his lips surrounded, sucked and quelled each misfiring nerve.

Oh that was good. Too good. Adrenaline spiked and massive amounts of endorphins washed through her body, making her high.

It all flooded straight down her center, funneled right to her groin.

"Don't. Come." His hands kneaded now at the inner curve of her thighs and her outer labia. "Not yet."

The muscles pulsated, beat in time to his ragged breathing on her body while his tongue circled and flicked at her left nipple.

"That's right, my fucking sexy little one." His finger ran through her slit, and suddenly . . . everything tightened and threatened to explode again. She groaned and tears slipped out. Why couldn't she come yet? "You wait for my permission," he insisted.

She tried to nod. Her head wouldn't move.

Oh Lord . . . His finger was gone.

_Fllliiiiick!_

Something slapped her clit _hard_.

His palm?

Oh fuck, sexy and so wrong! She bit back a whiny exhale. How much more could she take?

_Fliiiiick! Fliiiiick! Fliiiiick!_

She was back to that head-filled space where she could barely function. Her knees gave out, and she sagged as fingers all of the sudden plunged furiously into her pussy, pumped inside her roughly, moistening and slickening her so much, she oozed bliss out of every pore.

"I want you to come . . . You're not to think about it. Just do it. Now," a soft, gripping voice said, and it was gravelly and thick, and made her want to come so bad, she almost did right then.

But hadn't he told her over and over not to?

Her stuffed head tried to sort it out, but nothing made sense.

Light drifted overhead, and she floated higher.

"Mmmooore," she managed to say through a leaden tongue.

_Fwwwwaaaaup._

Shit. The pressure was gone.

Her cunt spasmed.

"Then you better come, little one, when I give you the order this time, and give you this," he said.

Something pressed at her opening. It was bigger than what had been inside her before.

Her toes lifted her as high as they could go for a brief second as everything tightened and coiled.

That something at her entrance was cold and hard and so reckless; it pushed right into her vagina, and hit the spot that sang to the music, still hovering around her.

There was a tug on her left nipple, and she gushed so hard her head buzzed, slipping her further into a blur. She whimpered and tilted her hips as far as they could go.

"Again," he gritted, and bit into her collar bone.

His fingers twisted and bent her left nipple; whatever was inside her, rotated and kneaded into a spot that split her into pieces, forcing fire through her, pounding it's way down her boneless legs.

"I said, come now!" he hissed and shoved it further inside. "This is my come, and you'll give it to me this instant! My body to command."

_Oh, please, oh God, I want to . . . Come!_

Flying apart at every angle, crashing into a world she never really believed could exist, her mind exploded into a prism of colors and light.

He grunted like he was coming, and that's when her spirit soared.

Her body convulsed, and she thrashed somehow while being tightly bound in place.

"Ahhh-ahhhh-_ahhhhhh_ God!" she shrieked, her voice escalating louder than the music, louder than the rushing of blood in her ears.

_Swwwwiiiip, swwwiiip, swwwwiiiip._

"Breathe," he said, his tone tight. "Breathe and let go, little one."

_Swwwwiiiip, swwwiiip, swwwwiiiip._

Heat and electric waves hit her clit as something pinched it. She yelped then grimaced with how sensitive it was, her body ricocheting. And when her entire body writhed harder as the grip tightened, she felt a swift motion sweep by her leg.

"Uuuungggghhh," she rasped and groaned, when her throbbing, engorged clit, was released then pinched once more.

Hot, spurts of some warm, thick fluid shot onto her hips, abdomen and her pubis.

"Isabella," a man whispered with the grittiness of sandpaper and then he gasped with stuttering breaths.

She could barely make it out, it sounded so distant and so muffled, but so right.

The hold on her swollen nerve endings released, her clit rushed again then her spine lost all rigidity. She slumped forward, even though at some point, he must've tilted the whole top half of the cross standing back to straight, because she was no longer hanging forward at the waist.

The mask was yanked free, and she watched, utterly hypnotized as the last dribbles of come rolled down his shaft. He finished stroking it and inhaled deeply, trying to catch his breath.

"You . . ." he started, still breathless, "are a magnificent creature. I'm so fucking proud of you."

And that's when she burst into a smile, and then followed it up with so many inexplicable tears and devastating emotions, that he tore her down in a rush and had her in his arms where he kept her until she could breathe again.

Until she knew she might possibly be loved after all.

**A/N:**

**If you want to see what the slave harness looks like here's the link (remove spaces): **** www . Stockroom PVC-Female-Slave-Harness-P2497 . aspx**

**Warning: not safe for work. Some nudity in the pic.**

**Sorry, I don't have a pic for Edward's St. Andrew's Cross. I'm not even sure if such a thing as this exists. I had a dream about it, and this is how you wound up with it. I'm no engineer, so I have no idea how realistically this would actually work.**

**You can all thank Shenani Whatagans and my pre-reader for getting me to go ahead and post this, even though I was feeling all insecure about this chapter in particular... *shrugs***

**Chanse**


	15. Chapter 15

**Chapter 15**

Edward curled around her in the bathtub, keeping her in his arms at all times. The tears were intermittent and unpredictable. She'd cry over the slightest provocation, and she could barely understand herself, why she was so emotional.

He fed her like a child, and now he was washing her.

Would she ever be the same again?

She turned to the side, curled into a ball and cuddled into him.

"When you're ready to talk about it some more, I wanna hear what's going on inside that head," he cooed, kissing the top of her crown.

"You're finally naked with me, Sir," was all she could say.

He hadn't done that before, had he?

She couldn't remember. It seemed like she'd seen bits of him, but this was everything, and he was so warm, all granite muscles and so safe . . .

"Sssuuffffuuuh," she sucked in a stuttering breath, but it was no use. She burst into tears again.

He rocked her gently and petted her hair, peppering her crown with delicate kisses.

"It's okay—I've got you. Let it out, little one. This was a big step for you tonight. You went through so much, and I'm so very proud of you. It was so beautiful to witness, I became teary-eyed a few times myself."

Her head jerked up, and though he looked blurry through her tears, she whispered, "You did."

"Yep." He smiled and ran his forefinger down the bridge of her nose then settled it on the dip above her top lip. It kind of floated there, then he said, "Open."

She did, and his finger dipped inside, but did the most unexpected thing.

He caressed the frenulum attached inside her lower lip. Was it supposed to be erotic? Because damn, if it wasn't turning her on.

"Try not to squirm, sweetheart. You're sloshing water out of the tub. Just relax into me, and feel this. It'll help," he said.

Her eyes went big, and she stared at him as she tried to settle down, but it was so difficult.

He dipped his head down, pulled his finger out of her lip and sucked her lower lip into his mouth then used his tongue to slide it up and down that same connective piece of tissue.

She moaned and her hand cupped his chest, bracing herself for what he might do next.

How was he doing this? It was an innocent spot, but yet, she was having a hard time not wanting to . . . Well, she wanted to slam her pussy down on his cock, impale herself since he still wouldn't do it.

The second her stomach coiled tight over the thought of how he kept avoiding intercourse, a fresh rainstorm of tears started up.

He let his tongue slip out of her mouth and kissed her gently.

She waited for him to frown or tell her she was stupid, give up and walk away, but instead, this unpredictable man held her closer and was even more gentle with her.

"I love how you feel everything so deeply. Do you know how wonderful that is? It means you're opening up, and that's a painful process. But it's an honor to watch it unfold. You really are a glorious creature," he said, his voice as gentle as his hands, now running circles all over her back, in her hair and on her shoulders.

She sniffed back the tears, melted into him and listened to his low, deep voice. It warmed her insides and soothed her scattered thoughts.

"I'm here for you; anything you need. All you ever need to do is talk to me," he said.

She hiccuped a lazy sigh, and he chuckled.

After several minutes of her holding him so tight her arms were beginning to ache, he said it was time to get out.

Her whole body sagged.

He'd be leaving now.

Somehow, she held back the tears this time.

"Okay," she said, keeping her face down.

If she looked somewhere else, maybe it would hurt less.

"Isabella, I brought a bag of clothes with me. I'll be staying the night."

She looked up and her breath caught somewhere between her tight belly and her heart.

He smiled. "We both need more than a little cuddling in the water and some food." He held his hand out, she took it, and he helped her out.

It was stupid, but she found herself crumbling inside again over the simple things he did like drying her off.

Her hand drifted through his damp hair.

Maybe he wasn't treating her like a child after all. Maybe he was like her—so filled with a need to devote himself to his partner, that he couldn't help himself.

"Thank you," she said then bit her lip as her hands kept running through his hair.

He tipped his head back. "No need to thank me. I love taking care of you."

She beamed at him and her insides lit up when he moved slowly up her hips and gave them a little pleasure grope.

Why did it hit her so hard when he was playful in small ways like that?

Was it because it felt so real? Like he really did enjoy being with her?

How could that be? Wasn't she a burden?

He stood up, towering over her, and she wanted to beg to touch him all over, but instead, she tucked her hands behind her and gripped the backs of her thighs.

"I'm going to massage you then you're going to sleep with me. So, if you have nightly routines, I want you to do them right now because once you're in bed with me, you'll need my permission to get up again." He motioned with his chin at her toothbrush.

She startled for a second, since she'd been lost in thought as she studied his amazing body. God, he was gorgeous.

Slim hips sat atop toned, tight, shapely legs. He wasn't one of those guys that only concentrated on the top half.

His abs were amazing, and those hips flexors were like an aphrodisiac to her.

She exhaled absently when he stepped closer, pinched her chin and tipped her head up. "I know there are all sorts of interesting new sights to see, but eyes here for a moment."

Her face heated. "Yes, sorry, I . . . Uh . . ." She looked away.

"Eyes; I'm not kidding. Look here, and listen to me." He chuckled when her feet shifted and her legs wiggled. "Get ready for bed now, only no clothes. Understand?"

She tried to nod, but he still had hold of her chin. "Yes, I understand, Sir."

"Good. I'll be getting ready as well," he said. He smiled, then let go of her.

He left her in the bathroom, and for a moment, all she could do was grip the edge of the counter, count to ten in her head, breathe deeply and keep her head tucked down and shoulders back.

Her legs were bobbing all over the place.

How could she be horny again? All he'd done was that little massage thingy in the tub to her lower inner lip.

She pushed off the counter, and went into busy mode.

Her first action was to drain the tub, then wipe it down.

After that was completed, she picked up the towels off the floor, hung them up to dry, and when she was about to wipe down the mirrors, she turned to find him watching her in the doorway.

She jumped and crossed one ankle over the other, her hands instantly crossing over her chest to cover up.

"Did I tell you to clean? Or did I tell you to get ready for bed?"

"N-no, Sir. You didn't say to clean, b-b-but, I—"

"Stop stalling, little one. If I want you to clean, I'll let you know. Don't worry about that stuff. Brush teeth, use the toilet or whatever else you need, but now you've only got three minutes. I want you in bed before I hit the three minute mark, or there'll be consequences." He tapped his fingers on the door jamb, let go and went back into the bedroom.

She lunged for her toothbrush, brushed her teeth like a fiend, rinsed, spit, closed the door, used the toilet and quickly washed her hands.

How long did it take her? She had no idea, but her nerves were jumping around.

Her legs were quick to carry her to the bed. He was already there, and when she slid in next to him, his breath was minty fresh and he smelled incredible.

She leaned in to inhale, but he turned her over onto her stomach, and within seconds, there was oil slicking up his hands and they moved over her entire body, relaxing her into the mattress.

Before she knew it, she was dozing off.

"I love your hands," she mumbled, half asleep.

He dug a little deeper into her muscles.

"And your body—definitely love your cock. I wish you'd . . ." _fuck me hard with it . . ._

"Is that why you were crying in the tub?" he asked.

She nodded and her lip was being a pouty bitch, jutting out ridiculously.

It was hard to suck it back in when her mouth was like rubber—all loose and limp.

"You want to be fucked, don't you, little one?"

She whimpered in response.

"This isn't all about sex though . . . It's more than that. And you have things you need to take care of and to learn," he said, his voice a warm, thick blanket, wrapping around her mind.

She slipped closer to a dream-like state.

"Such lovely skin," he observed, his fingers tracing down the edges of her spine.

Her shoulders crept to her ears, and she sighed.

"I'll touch every inch of it before I . . ."

That was the last thing she heard before he was lifting her up, turning her over and resting her up against his chest while he lay on his back.

"Tell me now while you're a little more rested—what did you like about tonight's scene?"

"Everything," she muttered, "but mostly it was . . . The way you reacted. I'd hear your breath catch fire, and I knew I was doing what you wanted. It was . . . God, I loved that."

"Sweet girl," he murmured, kissing her temple and stroking her side. "What was the most difficult part?"

"The same," she sighed and inched closer to him, in case he tried to reject her after her answer.

"That's fair. It scares you I might accept you as you are."

"That's not a question," she managed to say through a hazy mind.

"Nope. I don't need to ask that—it's pretty obvious."

She dropped her head and nuzzled into the dip between his well-shaped shoulder and delicious chest.

"I wish I was less transparent." She yawned and wrapped a leg over him, effectively trapping him in her bed.

He tilted onto his side a little more and wrapped his top around her back, almost suffocating her into his chest.

"That's something I can't allow," he said. "Tomorrow, I want you to journal all about tonight. What you think caused the tears—in more depth—and don't even think about if I'll be reading it or not. That's not your concern. I'll be calling you several times at work. Answer every time, and you'll be glad you did." He pressed his lips hard against her forehead. "Sleep now. I'll dress you before work, and you'll start your day off right."

She gave a throaty moan of approval and the warmth and protection took over—sending her straight to sleep on his command.

God, he was good. And what would she ever do without him?

Her dreams were intermingled with such moments of bliss in his arms, and alternated with crying jags after he left her.

It wasn't until she woke in the morning to an empty bed in the morning, that she knew it was all an illusion.

Until . . .

"Morning, little one," he said in the cheeriest way possible, startling her.

She grabbed the sheets and tucked them up under her chin.

He waltzed into the room with a stack of hot pancakes on a plate, ready to eat and a smile more brilliant than the tempting food.

_I love you . . ._

She kept her gaze on the plate in his hands.

If she saw those mesmerizing green eyes, she'd blurt it out, and it would be a disaster.

He slipped the plate of food onto the nightstand, and said, "Don't touch it. I'll be right back with your drink."

He returned a few minutes later with a glass of milk.

She frowned. "I hate milk."

"Today you don't." He almost skipped to her side. "You need the protein."

She grimaced. "I had that in my fridge because I cook with it, but I don't drink it."

"My sub does whatever she's told because her favorite part of being with me, is that she wants to hear my exaggerated breathing when I'm pleased."

How was it possible he was even more delectable than the food when he grinned at her in that smug way?

She swallowed and sat still, waiting for him to tell her what the plan was.

"I'm going to feed you," he said.

Figures. She bit back the urge to whine about it and roll her eyes.

Another swallow from her and an understanding nod.

"You're going to eat it all, and then we'll shower and I'll dress you."

"Sir, may I speak freely?"

He grinned and slipped onto the bed, then reached over and grabbed the plate. "Yes, you may."

"This is much earlier than I usually get up. Is there any way I can get up, use the restroom first and check my email? That's my usual morning routi—"

"No. That's going to take you away from me and get you thinking too much about your day. I want you focused entirely on me and what I want." He cut through the stack of pancakes and held out a bite for her.

She dutifully opened her mouth, swallowed, and oddly, it was nice—to be fed this way in bed, like royalty or something.

Her insides slowly filled as she took in whatever he gave her.

Even the milk, though the taste was disgusting to her, was sitting well with her insides.

Or maybe it was all due to him and his presence?

There was something about him telling her what to do, what to think, that spread this calm, wavelike motion through her.

"Tell me who you belong to," he said.

"You, Sir. All day long I'll be thinking of you."

"Fuck yeah, you will. And when I call, what are you to do?"

"Drop what I'm doing if I can, and answer, Sir."

"No." He set the plate down, cupped her jaw and said, "You will answer no matter what, even if it's to say you'll call me back in ten minutes. You will always acknowledge my presence in your life."

She bit back a groan as her pussy clenched. Shit, that was hot.

Her tongue rolled back in her mouth and her mouth tightened shut. "Mmnn," she groaned in agreement.

"Something getting to you, sweetheart?" His taunting, lopsided smirk, made it worse.

Her left leg twitched as she tried to covertly close her legs together.

His eyes were drawn to her leg, and he instantly spread them open wide.

"You need to finish the last few bites of your meal, but I haven't eaten yet, little one, and I'm really hungry," he lilted.

He lowered her onto her back, climbed over her and when she tried to touch him, he immediately hopped up, grabbed his tie for work and bound her hands over her head, securing them to her slatted headboard.

"So sorry your breakfast wasn't nearly as satisfying as mine," he growled then proceeded to eat her out like he was a starving man.

.

.

.

Edward called her. This was the first series of six he planned.

After all the nasty looks she gave him this morning when he dressed her, he had her drop to her knees and service him before he left.

She got her breakfast of champions as well, so it was a nice morning.

Spending the night with her was . . . Hell, he loved it.

Never did he think he'd desire to do that with a sub on a regular basis, but with her? Fuck.

He tapped his pen on his desk and his chest heated at the vision of her big brown earthy eyes, watching him come in her mouth.

God, she loved to watch him.

He was gonna need to blindfold her more often because it made him orgasm too quickly.

"Well, hellooooh, Sir," she answered in a breathy tone that made his balls tighten and rise.

"God, you tasted good this morning. I'm still thinking about it," he blurted and caught his hand, drifting toward his semi-erect cock.

"Good. I . . ." He could hear her tip forward in her chair, the wheels squeaking for a second ". . . I loved hearing the sounds you made when you were tasting me. It made me so creamy and wet, Sir."

"Fuck, I may need to visit you today, but I have a lot of work I need to get done." He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. This was getting out of hand. He inhaled deeply and slowly then went back to his original plan. "That can be decided later, though. Head to the bathroom, once there, take pictures of your entire outfit. I want to see what you're wearing underneath as well."

"You know what I'm wearing. You dressed me." She gasped, and at the end of the breath, it went almost shrill. "You think I went home and changed, don't you, Sir? You don't trust me."

He chuckled. "Paranoid, little subbie? I never said that. Don't you put words in my mouth, or I'll put them back on your ass in the form of punishment."

She huffed. "Fine."

"Sir."

"Sir, I'll do what you ask, but I prefer you tell me your reasons."

"I'm sure you do." He ran his hand over the edge of his keyboard. It was so fun getting in her head.

"You're not going to tell me though, are you?"

"Sir, and if I have to remind you one more time, there'll be more than reasons being flung at you."

"Shit," she muttered under her breath.

He smirked. "Don't you mean, 'Shit, Sir?'"

She giggled. "Yes, Sir, that's exactly what I mean. Do you ever get sick of reading my mind?"

"Nope. And it's a gift that keeps on being extended your way, so get used to it. Pictures incoming on my phone in ten."

"Okay, Sir. I'll take a break and do that now."

"Good girl. Love hearing that switch in your tone from lippy to submissive. It suits you better."

"This might just be what I need so my morning goes better, Sir." She sounded a little airier.

"It is exactly what you and I both need. Now do it before I get antsy. You wouldn't want that," he breathed.

His hand was back on his tight, greedy groin.

She wanted him to fuck her, that was obvious, and he was dying to have her, but she had to learn.

This sub was more to him than a person to train. She was a beautiful, exquisite angel in need of finding her wings. And that wasn't going to happen if he lost himself inside her.

He could very easily do that—give in and forget what the purpose of their relationship was.

God, he wanted to forget this was only a deal to her.

"I can't wait to see them. Make me proud with your photography skills."

She snorted a laugh. "I'll try, but no promises on that one, my gentlemanly Sir."

He laughed, too, and then ended the call.

Five minutes and thirty-four seconds later, his phone was flooded with images of her body, her clothes he dressed her in, and she even thought of the little details like her stockings, shoes, hair, facial shot, so he could make sure her makeup was still appropriate.

She hadn't modified a thing, and though she was wearing plain cotton panties and a matching bra, fuck, she looked amazing. It was that girl next-door shit on her, when she was made up in a more natural way, that made her absolutely stunning and completely irresistable. Her whole person changed, and her goodness shined through.

His cock was out, he was fisting it and moaning her name seconds later as he came undone with his phone in one hand, his heart in his throat and her scent on his shirt from this morning.

Dammit. He was going to cave soon, fuck her as rough as he could, but he . . .

_No! She's special. Treat her that way. Not some piece of ass for your dick to play with._

He shot her back a quick email.

_Thank you. Loved it, even the ones I didn't ask for. Your homework the second you get home, if you still have that bag of clothes I told you to throw out from your closet, which I think you do, since I don't think you got a chance to take care of it, then I want you to dig out your most provocative work outfit and show me how slutty you want to be at work. If there was nothing holding you back, what you would wear. I'll be at your house at five-thirty sharp. Have dinner ready, wear the outfit and be waiting for me by the door, kneeling on your cushion, hands clasped behind your back, eyes closed. I'll call you back in one hour. Be ready for it._

He went back to work once his dick was tucked back away and tried to stop thinking about how good it would feel to finally be inside her.

A half hour later, he was interrupted from work when there was an incoming text from Rose.

**Need help to orchestrate a scene this weekend. I need a few close friends to witness this public one. You in?**

He shot her back a simple—_**Yes. Tell me more later tonight in email.**_

She said she would and he went back to work.

Right as he was about to call Bella, he got a text from Jasper.

He groaned. What the hell? Why were all his buddies suddenly infiltrating his phone?

Weren't they at work, calling their subs, too?

Well, Jasper wasn't. He was at home now with Alice pretty much constantly.

He picked it up and read it fast so he could call Bella. She would be waiting.

**Need help with Alice tonight. Need to step out to get some work things situated. Can you come with Bella to watch her?**

_**I'll send Bella if Rose can be there as well. I think she'd like to have some girl time.**_

**I want a Dom here in case Alice needs to be restrained. She's having some issues with needing to shower frequently.**

_**Christ. It's that bad? I'm so sorry. But, you don't think Rose can handle it? If they need me, I'll be right over. **_Edward's gut bit into him—Alice. He should be contacting Jasper more often to make sure they were okay, but his thoughts constantly circled around Bella, it left little time to think about much else.

**Yeah, that should be fine. I think Rose will be all right. I think Alice will like this arrangement as well.**

_**Great. Bella will be there after dinner. 6:30 too late?**_

**No, that's fine. I'll see the girls then.**

He probably should've said yes, he'd go too, but something inside his gut said this would be good for Bella. She probably needed to vent and get some feedback from other female friends right now.

He went ahead and called Bella up.

When she answered, his body tightened up, ready to take hold of her flesh and claim it for his own.

He squared his shoulders and told her, "Change of plans for tonight. Do all the things I told you before, but after we eat, I'm taking you somewhere and dropping you off. You have my permission to wear whatever you want for this occasion."

"Really, Sir?" Her voice broke with gladness.

"Really. Something comfortable, but if it's too tight or revealing, I'll—"

"It won't be. I promise, Sir. Oh, God, thank you!" she cried with a heartwarming sound of utter happiness.

"I fucking love it when you get thrilled over the little things," he said with a slight tremor to his voice. Her exuberance was infectious, as was her sweet spirit.

"My toes are curling, that's how not little this is to me. I love it when I earn your trust, Sir." she said. "_Sooo_ much." She stifled a giggle.

He settled back in his seat, smiled as he gazed out the window. Sunshine had nothing on her in terms of warming him up and sustaining that filled, sated feeling.

"I love it, too, sweet girl. There's nothing better than how you sound right now." Well, maybe shoving his dick in her, but . . . Well, that would have to be discovered later.

"I can't wait to see you. Do you know how much I'm looking forward to tonight, darling?"

_Darling?_ That was . . . Had she called him that before?

His smile spread to his heart.

"Not any more than I am. Take care. Enjoy your workday. I wanna hear about it when I call in an hour, and tell me the good portions of your day first because I want to hear you all happy worked up again. It's nice to have it intermittently throughout the day," he confessed.

Why was he telling her so much? Fuck, he was forgetting himself. He liked to keep his sub on their toes, not giving everything away without them working for it some, but she was so ecstatic right now. He'd damn near give her anything when she was in this state.

His heart flooded and expanded as he thought about how many more things he wanted to give her besides clothes.

_Like a collar?_

He swallowed as a lump formed in his throat.

"Hmm . . ." Her smile in her voice melted that tight, throat constricting right out of him. "If I didn't know better, Sir, I'd swear these phone calls are you becoming addicted to me, rather than you checking up on me like a good watchdog." She chuckled.

Jesus. She had it pretty much right.

He hadn't even realized that was truly what he was doing until now.

"I want another set of pictures."

"Dare I ask why, Sir?"

"No, you daren't," he said, echoing her heart-warming chuckle.

He grabbed his drink and took a sip.

"I'll mix it up a little for your amusement, Sir, if that's okay with you?" she asked, but he could tell she wasn't really inquiring at all. She was being a little sassy.

"Little one, you do whatever you like, as long you stick within the parameters I set for you. That's what I want—for you to find yourself along the way, as I prod you in the right direction." He took another sip. It was helping him to calm down so he wouldn't feel the need to jerk off to her voice. His hands were already shaking, dying to do it while he listened to her laugh and carry on.

"If you prod me anymore than you already do, I may want to forgo panties and stick with adult diapers; I'm always wet because of you and your prodding, _Sir_."

She giggled freely, without trying to drown it out with her hand or something else, and that was all it took.

His dick was in his hand, and he knew he had to end the call.

"Oh, Sir, I almost forgot. I have something for you." Her voice was filled with mischief. He was tugging at the root when she gave a stifled little moan, and said, "Are you touching yourself, Sir? It sounds like you are."

"Mmnnungh," he softly grunted. "Wouldn't you like to know?"

He ended the call.

A moment later, he lost sense of himself, took a picture of his cock dribbling on his hand, sent it to her with a little message that said, _You don't have to wear, tight revealing things to your work place because this is what you do to me._

He got back a deluge of shots of her tits bared, her legs spread with her other hand, shoving the crotch of her panties aside and he could barely make out the moistness there, but it was unmistakable—she _was_ wet for him.

No messages from her, but he didn't need any. Pictures spoke volumes of what he did to her as well.

Her clothes were still the same, but his weren't. He spilled come on his pants and had to change into his backup pair. Great.

He might not want to place his next few calls to her he'd planned.

.

.

.

Bella's eyes were closed when Edward walked in her front door.

His scent hit her and she wavered for a moment in spot, a little buzzed from it.

All at once, she was gripped by the upper arms, lifted and shoved against the wall as his lips slammed into hers.

He bit her lower lip, his tongue did that slidey thing it did when they were in the tub last night.

She moaned right away, and right when she went to grope his chest, he had both of her wrists clasped in one of his hands, pinned to the wall above her and his hard erection was pressed above her pubic bone, grinding hard.

His other hand fisted her slutty skirt she used to wear to work. The seam ripped as he roughly shoved the skin tight material up.

That wasn't the only garment he shredded. Her panties were yanked and torn from her body.

She moaned as he slid his mouth down her neck and bit around the center of her throat.

_Again._

It was amazing the way it rippled down to her clit.

He sucked and nibbled at that spot, his fingers now moving at a torturously slow pace into her folds, barely grazing the edge of her clit.

The dichotomy of his fast paced lips, and slow, too gentle fingers on her pussy, were confusing her.

To make matters worse, he'd grind into her hip then retreat for a few seconds, unexpectedly nailing her into the wall with his dick, anywhere it seemed but in her pussy.

Why? Why wouldn't he have sex with her?

She was clean. He could use a condom, anything, but she needed him to fuck her.

Her whimper of pain came out in a hoarse whine.

"Fuck—this is why you can't wear this shit. It turns men into animals," he said, releasing her and stepping back.

"Nobody's ever done _that_ to me before," she said, her hands moving to her swollen, sensitive lips.

"They want to. I guarantee it, and no one gets to think of you that way except me. See why you have to get rid of these clothes?" he asked, his hands fisting at his sides.

He looked ready to beat the shit out of some nameless guys he was conjuring up in his head.

"Okay, yeah—I think I get it now, Sir." She tried to fill her lungs, but her entire body was weakened from his assault moments ago.

But all too soon, his expression went impassive, they were sitting down to eat with her skirt all ripped up and no panties covering her ass.

She ate in silence, wondering what the hell he was thinking, and where he was taking her afterward.

"Stop trying to guess," he finally said, wiping his lips with a napkin.

How did he make even that insanely seductive?

Her eyes followed his lips.

"I-I'm not," she lied.

"You are. Don't pretend you aren't curious, but I don't want to ruin the surprise, so instead of thinking about that, get over here—I want you in my lap." He pointed at his prominent erection.

She grinned and slinked over to him, straddling him right away.

His mouth was surprisingly quick but not as fast his fingers, undoing her blouse and twisting the peaks of her tightened nipples.

Her head tipped back, and his hips shifted up.

Over and over again, he started dry humping her.

His hand flung out, clearing his spot on the table, shoving plates and utensils aside.

In one swift move, he had her turned over, pushed up onto the table, legs spread and out of nowhere, he had some silky type of scarf wound around her hands; above her head and on the table.

He fucked her through his clothes, rough and hard, biting the back of her neck, his hands angrily shoving her hair up and fisting it out of the way.

"You are to think of me all night when you're away from me. I want to have your journal entries to read while you're gone, and don't you dare touch yourself while we're parted." He grunted and his hips shifted up, hitting right where her entrance was.

If he'd remove those damned clothes, he'd be inside her.

Her hands popped up off the table, and she debated slipping one hand out and reaching behind her to try and pull down his pants, but she stopped.

He'd be upset if she did that.

So, she bit her lip, quietly moaned and listened to his erotic, tortured raspy breaths as he continued to slam his clothed dick into her.

"Why do you do this to me, Isabella? Why do you do this?" he chanted in time with his thrusts. "Want. You. Want. You. Why do you. Do this. To me? Why?" His tip pushed really hard then stilled, and she bit back a cry, imagining him coming in his pants.

In a blinding flash, he had tossed her off the table, onto the floor, but somehow cushioned the blow.

He was on top of her, fucking her faster—still fully clothed, but his hands shredded her blouse and her bra, and he was biting her nipples, pulling them hard with his lips and her legs wound around him as her back continuously bowed off the ground.

"Fuuuuck . . . I'll miss you tonight," he ground, "so much. I'll go crazy without you."

Before she could answer, he went to kneeling, yanked her legs off him and his dick was out, pumping furiously in his hands.

Right as the first signs of precome showed up, she opened her mouth wide, and with frightening speed, he straddled her chest and was spurting into her mouth with dying, strangled groans, emanating out of him, his gaze directed entirely on her. His warm, thick come, landed on her lips and happy tears streamed down her cheeks as it hit her.

_He wants me, too . . ._

_._

_._

_._

On the drive over to wherever it was Edward was taking Bella, he kept giving her these heated looks that made the top of her stomach quiver and her toes bunch into knots.

It would go from one second looking like he might panic and keep her with him, to the next second, his eyes saying in that moment he surrendered all he was, and she could do any damned thing to him she wished.

She didn't know what to make of it, other than keep staring at him, which was totally unlike her.

Shouldn't she look away? Wasn't that what a submissive did, but how could she, when he was looking at her like his next breath depended on her?

Out of nowhere, her hand shot out and she clutched his leg. "Hey, are you going to be all right?" She paused, waiting for a reaction, then tacked on, "Sir."

"Don't worry about me," he said, his breath sounding like a tinny hiss.

But then his hand curled around hers and rather than peel her fingers off him, he dug them tighter into his thigh.

"When I think about you tonight, I'll have a hard time breathing or even thinking straight, Sir," she admitted.

He smiled but there was a touch of sadness in his eyes.

Why? What would make him look like that?

Did she say something wrong?

He pulled up into an unfamiliar driveway and parked the car. As it idled, he turned fully to her, gripped the back of her head and pressed his forehead to hers. "Do you know what you mean to me? How you drive me absolutely fucking insane for you?" His breath pelted her lips, her chin, and even that was making her feel needier than ever.

Oh, God, if he'd only fucked her at her place tonight before dinner, maybe she'd be less apt to wanna throw herself back in his lap and hope he'd lose complete control this time.

He was so close at her place—the way he animalistically dry humped her. It was exhilarating but also the most frustrating experience of her life.

The man said she was driving him fucking insane? What about him? He had no idea how annoying it was to constantly be walking around with thick puddles of her own natural lubricant permanently between her thighs. Soon she'd chafe, and there was nothing sexy about a rash between the thighs.

_Bastard—fuck me already!_

She sighed. "Can I call you if I miss you too much, Sir?"

"You may text me—no phone calls, but I doubt you'll want to. You'll be having too much fun," he said, smiling, but still, it wasn't all the way there in his eyes. It sounded a little unconvincing.

He released her and when her hand rested on the door, ready to open it, he released a low whine, sounding like it had been trapped deep in the back of his throat.

A flood of heated longing, swept through her heart and lowered into her belly.

"Please, Sir . . . If you make sounds like that." She shook her head, hanging it in the process. It was already difficult to leave.

"I'll walk you up," he said, shoving himself forcefully out the door.

He was at her side, helping her out and walking her in silence to the front door.

His hand was loose in hers, but she clutched his tightly.

_Don't let go . . ._

He knocked on the door, and the second it opened and Jasper stood there, she lowered her gaze.

Was he sharing her with another Dom?

What the fuck? They'd agreed—both their lists said they didn't have any desire to be polyamorous. Had he changed his mind?

She tilted her head to the side to give Sir a nasty look.

He smiled at her then turned his gaze to Jasper. "I didn't make you late did I?"

"Nah, I'm good. I'll leave in just a moment. Rose should be here soon and then I'll take off," Jasper replied.

"How's Alice doing?" Edward asked.

"Today was a good day. Only one attempt to get into the bathroom, but I caught her before she got very far. I restrained her, occupied her head space for a while and then she was good again. Her therapy session today was good as well. We're making progress." Jasper opened the door and welcomed them in.

Edward barely stepped over the threshold and stopped. "I better not come in any further, otherwise I might not want to leave this little one. She's been . . . Well, let's just say parting is difficult for us both." He reached out and traced three fingertips down her cheek. His gaze was harsh on her for a moment. "You have my full permission to speak and have as much fun as you wish. Listen to Jasper and do whatever he says. After he leaves, Rose will be in charge. If you have any questions, text me." He pulled his hand back.

Bella looked up at him with longing.

_Don't go._

Edward groaned through his teeth, leaned in and kissed her then said a quick goodbye.

He was out the door, and she was standing there before Jasper without an idea of why she was here.

Jasper's foot stomped for a second, he tilted his head back and blew out like he was exhausted and filled with so much concern, he was about to scream.

She took her gaze off him, feeling like she was prying into a personal moment.

A few more frustrated breaths by him, and then she could hear his head drop back down to looking at her.

"I'm so glad you're here. Alice needs you ladies tonight. I've got some details I need to hash out for work. I hate to leave her, but I don't have a choice this time." His foot scuffed the hardwood floor. "Will you take good care of her for me?"

Her eyes watered and she dared to look at him. "Of course I will, Sir. She's like family to me; a sister I care deeply about, and I'll do anything to help keep her safe and happy. I'm sorry I haven't been here for her more," she rambled, guilt blanketing her soul in a thick, dark sheath.

"She loves you, too, and Rose. Recently, she's talking about you both a lot in her therapy sessions. She says you both were the first women she ever wanted to be around. That she felt compelled to reach out to you in particular. There's a goodness in you that both Alice and I see, and now Edward as well. I don't know what it is about you, Bella, but you have one of those pure souls, yet you can't see it at all. It baffles me, actually."

She smiled, but her mouth quivered because there was too much emotion to contain.

"Can I see her now, Sir?" she asked, her voice timid and squeaky.

"Yeah, yeah, sure. I'm certain she's back in the bedroom, wondering who just arrived and what's taking so long. I tried to get her in the best mood possible before you came here." He grinned, but it looked a little dirty, like he was imagining whatever they'd just done.

_Oh, don't tell me they just fucked . . ._

A stab of jealousy lanced through her gut. She looked away, and then followed after him.

The second she saw Alice, her body fell apart on her.

She flung herself at her best friend, and in the next heartbeat, they were kissing each other's cheeks, crying happy tears and talking in that fast-paced, girly way men couldn't comprehend. Jasper shrugged and backed up, giving them space to gush, glow and be in a place where only women would understand what was going on . . .

**A/N:**

**Thank you so much to my new beta, Shenani Whatagans. She's a wonderful help, and I love hearing her feedback.**

**Also, thank you to my pre-reader, boo1414. I could never do this story any kind of justice without my team and these ladies helping me along.**

**I apologize it took me a while to put this chapter up. RL has been hectic lately, and unfortunately, I can already tell the next chapter's not going to be up next week. I haven't had a chance to write it yet, so I'm planning for 2 weeks. I'm in the middle of finishing up another story that has some BDSM themes, called Slick as Ides. It's a thiefward story with a geeky, but brilliant, inventor, Bella. It'll start posting on this account next week. Thanks for your patience.**

**Chanse**


	16. Chapter 16

**Chapter 16**

Jasper explained to the girls they could do and say whatever they wanted within reason. Rose was in charge, and if needed, Edward could get back quickly to help them.

He also made sure they understood anything they said would stay in this room, unless there was something of concern, then of course Rose would be obligated to share it with Jasper and Edward.

As soon as he left, Alice sighed and wore a lazy smile.

"I can't believe you're both here!" Alice squealed. Her shoulders cinched up and then she released a big puff of air. She was all aglow inside. Her eyes teared up again. "My Master—oh, woops." She smiled wide. "I mean, my Sir is incredible. I can't believe he did this for me."

"Me either—with Edward, I mean," Bella said. "You look terrific, Alice. And this place—wow! Are you living with him now?"

Alice nodded and smiled so wide, a giggle forced its way through. "He's been helping me get over . . . Well, you know. I can't explain it, but Jasper calms me in a way I don't think anyone else ever could. He seems to know exactly what to say, and my entire body and mind relax so much I feel all melty. It's hard to explain."

"You don't have to—Edward does the same thing for me," Bella replied.

Rose smiled at both of them. "God, I hope that's what I do for Emmett. I've decided I need to get my ass in the club and be trained as a sub so I can be the best possible Domme for him, but, fuck, I'm crazy nervous about it. I can't even stand the thought of somebody taking control of me, and forget being tied up. Ick!"

"Oh, God, ropes!" Bella moaned and her eyes slid up in her head. "I can't wait to be tied up. Just being hooked up to that St. Andrew's Cross about killed me with an overdose of pleasure. I thought I'd explode, it was that amazing."

Alice about bounced out of her seat. "Jasper ties me up all the time, and I fucking love it. It's the safest I've ever felt in my life. He said I practically go into subspace when he just runs it across my skin. I love how he does that to me. It's like he makes love to my body with it."

Bella fought off a whimpering moan again. "Good Lord . . . I may need to text Edward right now and beg him to have ropes waiting for me when I get home. I know I'll get in trouble for that, but it might be worth it." She giggled, and covered it with her hand, then remembered how she'd been consciously trying not to do that anymore. It was still hard to get past all the things her father had instilled in her as disgusting or annoying. Edward smiled at her like she was adorable whenever she giggled. "I don't know what I'm gonna do with that man . . ."

"What do you mean, _do with him_? There's nothing to _do with him_ other than please him and let him fuck you whenever he wants," Rose said, her brow scrunched.

Bella's eyes dropped and turned into a tormented storm of conflicting emotions. "He hasn't fucked me yet. He won't. I don't know what I'm doing wrong. I think . . . Well, I—_no_, I know I _do_—I love him. I'm crazy about him. I've never felt this strongly about anyone. He's all I think about—all I want. I die inside all day, needing to hear him, see him and know he's still interested in being anywhere near me. Isn't that pathetic?" Her shoulders sagged and rounded forward. She picked at the hem of her left pant leg while she sat with her legs crisscrossed on the couch.

"It's not pathetic at all—I think it's wonderful to hear you say that," Alice said.

"Hey, I'm gonna get us drinks real quick," Rose said, and when she got up to move, Bella grabbed her wrist.

"Please, Rose . . . Tell me what you think—why he's doing this to me—why he touches me, but won't fuck me." Her eyes were pleading.

"Give me a minute," Rose said, her tone tight.

She said she'd be right back and excused herself, almost running out of the room.

"What's going on with her?" Alice asked.

"I think she feels like she'd be betraying him if she tells me what she thinks is going on, but I've gotta know. Edward won't tell me, and I'm just so . . . Fuck! I want him so bad it aches all over. My chest feels like it gets so big, yet it's tight and constrictive—it's like my heart's gonna break free and fall apart. I can't explain it, but it's . . ." Bella exhaled and her head tipped down again.

"I know exactly what you mean. It's like your soul's trying to crawl out of your heart, out of your body, and it's almost as if you can't contain it. I want to scream and then let go, so I can finally be free." Alice offered a sympathetic smile and patted her knee.

"Exactly. It's like I know I've been trapped for so long, and I can't stand one more second of being held captive. It's a scary feeling, and it takes over, you know?"

"I do." Alice nodded.

"Hey, guys, wine okay?" Rose asked, setting down a bottle on the coffee table along with some glasses.

"If you don't want to say, it's fine," Bella told Rose. "I understand there are rules. You don't have to share your opinion on why Edward won't . . ." She fought off a frown unsuccessfully, and her eyes scrunched a little.

"It's not that," Rose answered. "It's just that . . . I don't wanna be wrong. If I give you bad advice, it could really fuck things up. I keep screwing up with Emmett all the time." She ran her hand up over her eyes and pushed it through her bangs. "I keep thinking he's going to give up on me and walk away from me completely, but he doesn't. In fact . . ." she paused and smiled as if in utter disbelief ". . . he keeps talking about moving in together."

"That's wonderful!" Alice jumped in her seat and grabbed Rose's hand then squeezed.

"It is, and I want to, but I don't know . . . I'm a picky bitch. I'll drive him nuts in less than a week and then he'll regret the decision, but, Christ! Having him in my bed at night, saying such wonderful things, it's like he worships me at times, and I want it, I do, but I don't know if I'm giving him what he needs. I think I am, but . . ." Rose groaned with a tight, grating sound.

"You are," Bella said.

"How do you know?" Rose snapped her eyes over to her. "How can you say that?"

"God, we're all a mess, aren't we?" Bella chuckled. "I keep saying the same things to myself, but I trust Edward. Trust Emmett. All you have to do is look at that man to know he's totally wrapped up in you. I saw the way he looked at you when you did that scene with him at the club. He looked damn near ready to propose when you strapped him down to that piece of furniture."

"He did?"

"Yeah," Bella reassured her. "Ask him how he feels about you. He'll tell you."

"What about you with Edward?" Rose asked. "He looked about ready to die when I walked past him, slumped over in his car out in Jasper's driveway."

"Whoa! No way! He's still out there?" Bella lurched out of her seat.

"I'm sure he's gone by now," Rose told her. "Sit your ass down. We're gonna have girls time." She chuckled. "God, you do have it bad."

"Almost as bad as me," Alice chimed in, her head bobbing and a cocky grin in place. "Except . . ." She bit the corner of her mouth, looking mischievous.

"Except what?" Bella asked, shoving her a little for being so secretive. "You better say."

"I want more. I want to be his slave." Bella gasped and covered her mouth. Alice went on, "I know it sounds crazy, right? But I want him to . . . Hell, I want to be everything to him. I want to lose myself even more. It's amazing, I can't even describe the way he makes me feel when he bathes me, dresses me, and then gives me simple commands, and I'm able to fulfill all of it. I can let go completely, and it's almost like being high all the time. He smiles at me and tells me how amazing I am, and I about turn to mush inside. I keep slipping and calling him Master, without even realizing it. And even when I freak out because that bastard, Tim, finds a spot in my head to try and ruin me, I rush to the bathroom to try to scrub him out, and Jasper's always right there. He picks me up, restrains me, he takes over and then it's gone. Like it never happened, and I can breathe again."

Bella and Rose stared at her, both with looks of awe and appreciation.

"He sounds incredible with you," Bella said in a hushed tone.

"He is. Even if this shit had never happened at that damned club, I think we would've found how absolutely compatible we are. It's like he can read my mind half the time. I get a thought, and it must show on my face or something, because he's right there, already fulfilling my needs. I'm telling you—he's perfect for me. I'd marry him, be his slave, and have a hundred of his babies today if I could."

Bella sighed. "Sounds almost too good to be true."

"It's not. I live it every day. I'm never moving out of here unless he kicks me out. He's already been taking care of my place—getting rid of it for me. He handles everything." Alice smiled, and a happy tear slid down her right cheek. She let it stay there. "I feel so at home here, I can't even remember what it was like to live without him, and I don't want to."

"Do you ever miss being in charge of yourself though?" Rose asked. She ran her palms down her thighs.

"Nope; not at all. I don't ever want to go back to being that confused, fucked up mess I was. I was constantly trying to get attention, push buttons. God, I was such a brat," Alice confessed with a chuckle. "I would have felt horrible if I'd been like that with Jasper. He's the sweetest man I've ever known, and I would've constantly been beating myself up for failing him and making his life hell for no reason other than my being insecure with who I was."

Bella gulped. "You're talking about me—that's _me_!" Her lips trembled; it was obvious she was on the verge of breaking down.

"Oh, it is not," Rose said, reaching over and gripping her arm then jostling her playfully.

"It is," Bella insisted. "That's exactly what I've been going through. And I realize how much time I've wasted fighting him. I need to stop, but it's so hard." Her jaw clenched. "I only want to please him; do whatever he needs so he'll love me as much as I do him, but then I remember the sick shit my dad used to say to me, and I struggle to let go."

Alice nodded for a moment and then leaned over and poured them all a drink. "I think the hardest part is to trust so fully you don't even worry anymore about being hurt. You stop giving a shit if they hurt you at all. It's the best thing I've ever done to turn myself over to him. I'd trust him with my life—he's that pure of a soul."

Rose smiled. "Here's to being us!" She grabbed her drink, handed Bella hers and they all toasted together.

"Now, what about babies?" Rose laughed. "How am I supposed to live this lifestyle and be big and pregnant? Because I swear my ovaries are shouting at me to make a stupid kid with Emmett."

Bella blinked and then burst into a barking laugh. "Are you serious? You want kids?"

"Hey! I have an ego that easily bruises, you know," Rose said, laughing harder. Her drink almost sloshed out.

Alice snorted. "I think you'd be an amazing mom and he could be a stay-at-home dad so you could keep wearing the pants in the relationship. I think he'd love that."

"Damn—he would," Rose said, her eyes going wide and looking a little too happy about this idea. "I could . . . God, what am I thinking?" She set her drink down and ran her hands over her face again. "That man has turned my entire world upside down. I just wanna rip into him all the time. I can't stop planning all the devious, dirty things I want to do to his insanely tight, sexy body. If there's a man as hot as him, I haven't found him."

"That's because you haven't seen my Sir naked," Bella answered. "Holy fuck! I almost jump him if he's near me when my mind veers off, and I inevitably wind up thinking about the few times he's been naked with me. Rock. Hard. Everywhere."

"Ewww!" Alice teased. "Don't even want to think of that man naked at all. He's so grumpy sometimes."

"He's not actually," Bella told her. "He simply knows what he wants, and he's direct about. I admire him for that—for his strength of character. And he's so ridiculously kind and generous and thoughtful . . . I really need to be better at listening to him and stop challenging his authority. You said Jasper's the sweetest man you've ever met, well, Edward's that to me and more. He's the only person I've ever felt can see all the way through me, straight down to the dark corners of my soul, and he gets this look on his face like he loves what he sees. It gives me chills every damn time. No one's ever wanted to know every aspect of who I am. He wants to know everything." She smiled. "He makes me journal my thoughts and feeling, and in fact . . . he's probably reading it right now."

They toasted once more, but this time they said, "To our men!"

.

.

.

Edward pulled up to his place. It was so devoid of life, of her, he was grinding his teeth the second he was inside the door.

Fuck, he was already going out of his head.

He had her journal tucked up under his arm. Without even doing another thing, he settled onto his couch, propped his legs up and began reading.

_Dear Sir,_

_I want you to know, and dammit, I keep forgetting to tell you this, I've been keeping a more detailed account of my feelings and my reflections in a Dropbox account. I've written the codes at the back of this journal for you. I didn't know if you'd be okay with me sending it to you by email, so I figured I'd leave it here and you could decide if that was okay or not. It seemed a better solution than this book since if I accidentally forgot to lock it up in my desk at work, anyone could get ahold of it. But if I'm writing it in Word at work then put it in Dropbox, I can save the file on my thumb-drive, and I've never forgotten to take my thumb-drive home since that's where I used to store my porn._

_Don't worry. You told me no masturbating, so I figured that meant no porn other than if you decide to send me some naked picks of you, so I've deleted it all, and haven't even been tempted to go looking for new pics of naked men. And believe me, Sir, if you ever gave me a picture of you, I'd have a really hard time not wanting to touch myself—that's why I'm not tempted. They're not you, and I can't even believe I was ever turned on by looking at that stuff. Well, you're all I need anymore. God, I sound like a sad-sack. Moving on before I say anything else stupid . . ._

He was smiling already. Did she have any idea how adorable she was—how she'd so fully sucked him in and entranced him?

He got up and grabbed himself a scotch. He'd need it, because damn if he was already twitchy and ready go back over to Jasper's and drag her back to his place so he could make love to her.

_Make love?_ Shit. He groaned and rolled his eyes up in his head.

His thoughts were getting more concerning in regards to her every day.

He gulped down a rather large swallow and went back to her journal. He'd delve into the Dropbox account when he was finished with the few pages she'd written in this book.

_Journal Entry 1_

_Sir just left my office. I sucked him off—deep throated him, and it was better than I could've ever imagined._

_He's uncircumcised, and I didn't know if I could take him down, he's massive, but goddammit, I did it. And it was wonderful. _He _was wonderful. I loved watching him touch himself. It was the most erotic thing I've ever seen, and there was no showing off. I mean, he kind of was taunting me with it, but it wasn't stupid, like some macho guy thing where he was insecure. Not at all. He was so secure, it was the biggest turn on ever._

_He even told me there had been someone outside in the hallway watching him fuck my face. I have no idea if that really did happen, and at first I was really self-conscious about it, and then I realized I almost wanted to get caught so I could quit hiding. I wanted everyone to know this gorgeous, brilliant, successful, and powerful man was with me. That he wanted me enough to come here and have me pleasure him. I'm glowing inside right now thinking about how he sought me out in the middle of his work day. Me! I can barely believe it. It's like a dream, and I still haven't woken up from it. I'm smiling hard._

_It was like I was hooked from that moment on. I can't explain it, but I've felt a very palpable shift. I want to be his in every way. If he wanted to fuck me on the hood of his car, I'd probably gush before he had my panties off._

_If he told me to set my hair on my fire because it would please him—yeah, I'm kind of worried I'd do that too without hesitating, and all because I would know it would make his day. Jesus. Where are the matches? *looks around room*_

He laughed. Thoughts of the look on her face if he ever told her to do that, assaulted him. He groaned at the deep ache in his chest over how her intriguing mind worked. She was always keeping him on his toes, saying unexpected things and reacting in such surprising, genuine ways. This shit right here—it was exactly why he was addicted.

"Yeah, like you'd do that," he said to himself, shaking his head.

He went back to reading her thoughts.

_If there's a man I've ever wanted to know everything about—it's him. I want to know every damn little thing about him. It hurts to know there's so much of himself he won't share with me, when I want it all. Everything about him is attractive to me. I swear he's the man I've prayed for every day of my life, only I can't seem to make him as deliriously happy as he makes me._

_Well, I'll keep trying. Until then, he's asked me to keep a record of the things I observe about him, like the things he says, what he eats, etc._

_First, I'm noting the things about him that make me crazy with desire, and even make me dream about him all night long. Yes, he's that deep in my head and entwined in my soul, I can't even let go of him in my sleep._

_Here goes . . ._

_Those eyes. God, they're the most brilliant green I've ever seen. He wears blue contacts at the club, and I can't understand why he'd ever cover them up. They give me chills just looking at them. Damn. I'm wet._

_Okay, not helping. Moving on . . ._

_His voice. Shivers. Yes, I fucking wrote that. I'm becoming a pathetic girly-girl for him, and I can't seem to stop it. When I pick up the phone, I'm ready to drop everything and be whatever he needs. His secretary, his chef, his slut, his chauffeur, his shoe-shiner. I'd probably lick the muck off his shoes as long as it wasn't shit. How sad is that? What does it say about me? He doesn't even need to whip me to make me feel whipped. I'm so his. This girl has no idea how this happened, but it didn't take long._

_Okay, back to the list. His thoughtfulness. He can turn me on in a second and without even trying. He'll be all Dom on me, and my legs go boneless, but then he says something thoughtful, about how I've made his day better and how he loved an idea I shared with him about his job, and my heart is flying away out of my chest. What man does that? No man I've ever known wants my feedback on stuff like that. I don't even know what I'm saying half the time, but he encourages me to share my silly, wayward thoughts. And he seems to appreciate them. God, how did I ever think he was a stiff, angry man like my father? They're worlds apart._

_His attention to details. I'm trying to be more like him this way. He can tell if I've done small things like put a bit of extra lip gloss on, if I've spent more time on his meal than usual, if I've paid special attention to the clothes he gives me by pressing them before hanging them carefully in the closet. That reminds me, he sent me this powder pink blouse today that I thought I'd abhor. I'm not a pink person. Never liked it, but I put it on for him, and oh my God! I felt like a goddess in it. The silky fabric would brush across my skin and I could easily imagine it being his whispered kisses or light touches. It drove me mad with want for him. And my fucking nipples have been hard all day long. The bastard knows what he's doing._

_More details about Edward I enjoy:_

_He likes spicy food, but only if it's salty; doesn't like it sweet. Hey, I'm gonna pretend he likes me that way too! Hee hee!_

_His steps falter when he enters a room if I smile at him._

_He calls me during the day when he's bored or sick of what he's doing._

_When he's thinking about what to do with me when I've been too lippy, his right eye twitches a little and then he smirks. I love that!_

_He likes the color blue. Each time he sees me wearing it, even if it's only in my jewelry, he almost growls. Love that too. Need to wear more blue!_

_He drives fast, but if I get tense, he slows down. At first I think he did the opposite to test me and see if I'd get over it? I didn't, and he adjusted accordingly. God, I love that man!_

His breath caught in his throat. Did she say love?

His eyes squinted, and he read it again. Yep. She sure as fuck did.

Hard. She had him hard.

Dammit.

He flipped the page and began on the next entry.

_Journal Entry 2_

_My dream:_

_Edward knows my body intimately. I don't know his as well, but I hope to someday._

_I wander into his shower and find him jerking off and moaning my name._

_When I touch him, he rasps a deep, rumbly, "Fuck! I knew you'd come. I knew you could read my dirty thoughts about you. Do you know what you do to me?"_

_I shake my head. The water sprays over his shoulder and lands on my bare tits._

_He leans over, licks the dew off me, and when I wrap my arms around his head, he bites me._

"_If you don't stop touching me, I'll have to fuck you," he warns._

_I of course, die inside, hearing this. "Yes, God—fuck me! I can't wait any longer. I want you so bad, I can barely see straight anymore."_

_And it's true. My dream is right._

_He pushes me up against the wall, and it's crazy how my palms stick to his body wherever he places them, and I can only do what he wants. He looks at me like I'm his next meal, and I whimper._

_His hand shoves mine up against his cock._

_I grip him harder than I thought myself capable of, and when he thrusts and the head peeks through the end of my fist because, yes, he's that fucking huge (but bigger in real life—funny how my dream didn't get that aspect right), and my mouth waters at the sight._

_Without permission, and being a naughty slut for him, I lean over, my hands still where he put them, and I lick the tip of his head._

_It's juicy, and it's salty, and I suck and slurp at him, and he pushes me down to my knees._

"_Fucking suck it hard, and I'll reward you, little slut."_

"_Yes, Master."_

_I have no idea why I call him this—it just comes out, but it fits. I want to be owned entirely by him in every way._

_I push my hand further down his length so it's out of the way and then I take him in. My throat burns with desire for his come to coat it._

"_Oh, God, I love how nasty you are, that you love getting dirty with me," he groans._

_I suck harder; I push his foreskin down as far as it'll go. He hisses, and I moan around him. I love the sounds he makes._

_I'm dripping down my legs for him. Will he fuck me now? Please, God, let it be now._

_I suck until there's salty pre-come leaking out of him._

_He gasps in a tight gust of air, picks me up like I weigh nothing, shoves me back up against the wall, and he stares at me like I'm destroying him. "Do you know what you're doing to me—each day, you unravel me more. You want me to love you? Well, that's not enough. I have to have all of you!"_

_And then _wham_! He's finally shoving his mind-blowing, giant cock inside me. And I'm shaking right away, gripping his shoulders, and crying out. "I love you! I know you don't want me to, but I can't . . . can't help it!"_

_And when he makes a dying, pained sound, I close my eyes. He's going to punish me for saying that. And I didn't even say Sir. God, I'm screwed. This is it. I finally got him to put his glorious dick inside me, and I've already ruined it._

"_Say it again," he rasps, his teeth nipping at my jaw._

"_I love you, Sir. You're everything!"_

_He doesn't say it back, but it's okay. He's letting me share how I feel, and it's all okay, and he's still inside me._

_He pulls his hips back, shoves his way roughly back in, and then he breathes, "When I'm done with you, you won't know who you are anymore, because you'll be mine. You'll be Edward's, and it won't matter what I say or do. You'll want me no matter what I desire of you. Even if I want you to be my little woman—clean my house, serve my every whim, and be my favorite fuck-toy. You'd love that, wouldn't you? Be debased and pushed down to nothing, all for my amusement?"_

"_God, yes," I whisper. It's awful that I don't care if he wants me to scrub his toilets and be his maid, but I don't care._

_And then he says, "I love the way you want me. I want you even more than you know."_

_Before he can thrust one more time, I'm coming, and oh shit, he didn't give me permission._

_Instead of punishing me, he chuckles and keeps going. He fucks me into the wall, and my back aches, and it's the best feeling in the world._

_I kiss him without his say so, and it's hard and gritty and dirty, and he moans, then he comes inside me._

_I hope he stays inside me as long as possible._

_My greedy cunt sucks him in as high as he can go. I hold him tight._

_Please don't go. When you leave, I almost crash and fall apart._

_I beg him with my eyes, and he pets the side of my temples and kisses my nose. "You need me, don't you, girl?"_

"_I . . . Yes, Sir. Always. Will you stay?"_

"_Will you earn it?"_

"_Yes. Anything you say, I'll do."_

"_Including wiping yourself off the floor after I fuck your ass so hard, you can't stand anymore?"_

_I nod._

_And then the water hits me, and I dissolve down the drain as he walks away._

_That's all he needed to hear. How far I was willing to go for him? I don't think there's a limit anymore._

_I've never been fucked in the ass, but after that dream, I want to be._

_I've never crumbled inside at the thought of cleaning a man's house and being his laundry lady, but I do for him._

_Do I really want all those things? I have no idea. I'm kind of confused and torn actually. There's a deep, secretive part of me that wants to be that nineteen-fifties housewife that runs the house, and then when he comes home from work exhausted, I almost want to beg him to use me to relieve his stress. I want to be there for him. Make him feel like the man that rules the world, since he already rules mine._

_How can I be those things for him? What if I'm not good at it._

_This girl is scared, but so excited, she can barely contain it._

_And oh yeah. Fuck! Forgot to mention, when I woke up, I was in the middle of having a mind-numbing orgasm. I never touched myself. Will Edward be pissed if he reads this?_

_I'm sorry, Sir. If you're reading this. I didn't mean to. In fact, I didn't even know women could have wet dreams, but I guess I do. My body found a way to compensate I guess. Shit. Don't be mad. Please?_

He sighed and shoved the book aside. He was sweating, his chest tied up in knots and all he could think about was, "Fuck, I want her in the worst way. And now I have to do this . . ."

He was dreading it, and had been putting it off, but in order to progress they'd have to make this trip.

He pulled out his phone, dialed up the number he took out of her contacts since she'd allowed him access to all her email accounts and let him look at her texts and go through her phone nightly.

"Hello?"

"Hi," he began. "My name's Edward Cullen. May I have a minute of your time? It's regarding Bella . . ."

.

.

.

Bella and Rose had left, but only after Rose pulled Edward and Jasper aside, and all but begged them to please be at her public scene this weekend.

They both agreed.

Jasper roamed toward Alice, who was sitting on the couch, staring at the floor with a lazy grin set on her beautiful face.

"What is this angel contemplating?" he asked, chuckling.

He slid into the seat next to her.

She sighed and when she turned her gaze on him, his chest that felt cold when he was away from her, suddenly came to life with heat and a furious pounding.

"You're just the pretties little thing I've ever seen," he said, brushing the backs of his fingers down her cheeks.

"Thank you, Sir. I love it when you say things like this. You're everything to me. I think I'd lost my soul, but you've given me a new one. I'm certain of that now . . . And I want to tell you that I love you."

His eyes went wide and his heart raced even more. "Alice, I . . ."

"Shhh . . . Sir, you don't need to say anything in return. I know this is tricky. You've been dealing with a half-dead woman almost this entire time, and you've been selfless and perfect, and when I was talking to my two dearest friends in the world tonight, it all came tumbling out. You're everything to me, and I know that's huge and scary, but it's true. I don't want it to feel like a crushing weight or anyth—"

"I won't have you lessen this moment by excusing it and trying to make it sound unworthy of us. You've shared how you feel, and that's all I ever want from you."

She blinked and her eyes flooded with tears.

"Little sub, I didn't mean it that way. I meant that my greatest concern for you and your well-being is that you're open and sharing of who you are and how you feel. Make sense?"

She nodded and her eyes crinkled at the corner with a smile.

"Good. I'll show you what you mean to me. Now, stand up, get undressed on your own, and we're going to try something your therapist shared with me after you left the room. She said it would probably help a lot with your need to feel clean after being traumatized." He stood up, and turned to go. "I'll be right back after I collect a few items I need for you. No going into the bathroom until I say you can. You won't need to after this. I think this is going to be exactly what you need."

"But, Sir, can you at least tell me where you went tonight and what happened?"

"No. Naked. Now. Talking later, and then I may choose to tell you what you want to know."

He slipped out of the room.

If he knew her, the second her clothes were off, she'd be cringing and staring at that bathroom door.

He had to be quick.

His arms grabbed the supplies he'd gathered while he'd been out attending to business matters.

He found her nude and in inspection position when he returned: legs spread wide, head bowed, eyes on the floor, chest up and out with hands clasped behind her head. Her spine was straight—perfect posture, and her stomach was held in tight. She was a vision to behold.

"God, that's perfect. Why didn't I think of that? You're brilliant, Alice." He set down the supplies on the coffee table next to the empty wine glasses.

"Sir, I thought it would help. It makes me think of you, looking me over and approving, then I don't feel as dirty and abused." Her voice hitched at the end.

"You're the cleanest little girl ever, and we're going to make you as spotless as can be right now. You'll be scrubbed clean of every ill thing in this vile world, including me and the things I've done wrong," he said, running his hands over her breasts as he stood directly behind her, almost pressing his body into her.

"But, Sir, you're so perfect, and I—"

"Silence. Be still. I'm apologizing, and you will accept it. I've done things wrong with you, and I can admit that. It's going to stop now. I know you better, I know what you need and what's best for you, and starting right now, in this moment, you'll know exactly what I mean by this." He pulled her hands off her head and set them at her side.

"Yes, Sir."

"Good girl. Now, you're going to go find the biggest towel I have in the hall closet. Wet it down. Wring it out so it's damp but not sopping, and you'll set it down on top of this blanket I'm going to spread out on the ground here. You have five minutes, and if I find you doing anything other than that in the bathroom, you'll get a spanking this time. I've avoided doing anything of this nature up until now, but you're ready for it. Go."

She released her legs from the wide stance she'd put them in.

Her steps were sure, and he smiled as he set the blanket out. He listened to her intently while she was in the bathroom.

His trust in her had grown immensely after Rose told him she never even entered the bathroom while he was gone.

He spread out what he needed on the table, and when she returned, she kept her gaze on her hands.

"Thank you for being so respectful. I don't want you to anticipate what we're going to do, so unless I tell you otherwise, your eyes are to remain on the floor," he said.

She mumbled a "Yes, Sir," then set the wet towel over the blanket.

"Lie down on top of it, stomach down, legs spread comfortably but no more than shoulder width. I want your arms at your side, a few inches away from your body and you're to relax your muscles," he said, then circled around the coffee table.

He took a deep breath. Was he ready for this?

"Eyes closed. There are going to be a lot of sensations tonight. I don't want to restrain you so you can move as you please, but if you'd rather—tell me now," he said.

"Sir, I love being bound, but I trust you have good reasons for leaving me free." She smiled and closed her eyes.

Her legs and shoulders were tense.

"Try to relax. And I don't want to hear you talking unless you need to safe word or unless I ask you something that requires a response," he instructed.

"Yes, Sir. I think I'd like to be quiet tonight anyway. My mind is relaxed after being with my friends. Thank you for that, by the way." She hummed and snuggled into her wet spot.

The moisture from the towel was seeping into the blanket. It was overkill, but he'd never done this at home before.

Fuck, he hoped he wouldn't screw this up.

He knelt down next to her. "Massage first. We begin now—no more talking—I mean it. I'm not even going to tell you what I'm doing for most of this. I want this to be the ultimate moment of trust." He ran his hand down the top of her head, over the entire length of her body and he sighed when his hands came off her. So smooth and beautiful. He loved having his hands on her. Moments like this made his whole body light up.

He reached over and grabbed the seven wheel pinwheel and the second he rolled it over her left calf, she squealed and hummed again.

Her skin pinked up almost immediately. He ran it over every inch of her that was exposed to him.

His insides warmed deliciously and endorphins cruised through his veins as he observed her heady reactions. Watching her give in like this was not only intoxicating, it was surreal.

Had a sub ever melted so completely and surrendered so fully under his guidance?

It was a gift. And he was going to thank her all damn night when they were done with their scene.

His eyes misted when she sighed and rolled her shoulders down into the ground like she was allowing it to swallow her up. It was evident she was letting him take her wherever he wanted.

_Thank you, sweetheart . . ._

His heart swelled to damn near bursting for her.

She breathed evenly and her muscles were all limp now.

God, this was going to work. He could feel it. The heat rolling off her skin told him she was almost ready.

He set the wheel aside, and went for his next tool.

His attachment had never been used before.

He set the rolling drum on his violet wand, got it ready and said, "Okay, this might feel odd at first, but if you accept it, then we can move onto what I think you really need and want. Ready, sweetheart? Nod if you are. No words."

She nodded vigorously, and he inhaled deeply, swallowed and set it down on her left shoulder.

"Ohhhhh, mmmngh," she gasped and her body rippled for a second then she smiled and her facial features softened then went into that look he so craved from her—that space where she was in heaven.

She was sublime when she went into subspace.

This was better than he'd thought. She'd be able to handle this next part no problem.

He was mesmerized, watching the small sparks dance across her pale skin.

"Feels good, doesn't it? This is me, loving you, showing you my devotion to you," he said. _Helping to heal you . . ._

She remained silent; her eyelids flitting around as she floated inside her head.

A few more passes and he turned it off, set it back on the table, and went to work on what he hoped would be a huge step in her recovery process.

He grabbed the bottle of seventy percent isopropyl alcohol, then set it down, realizing he'd forgotten something important. Shit. He'd thought everything was set in place.

He ran to the kitchen, grabbed two bowls. Filled one with ice and the other with water.

When he returned, she looked asleep, she was so serene and motionless.

He moistened his hands and told her, "I'm going to wet your hair. It's just water, so there's nothing to worry about."

He used an upward sweeping motion on her short hair, pushing it up and out of the way.

"Okay, I'm going to cleanse you now. You'll never be dirty again, sweetheart. I'm doing this for you—for us." He exhaled in a rush and picked up the bottle of rubbing alcohol once more.

He could do this. He _would_ do this, for her.

His eyes flashed over to the area on his inner arm where he'd already tested this on himself. It went well. What was he worrying about?

She might flip out, and this might set her back.

He shook his head. No, she'd take to this. Her therapist was confident it would help, not harm. And he agreed.

No backing out.

The crop was there. The supplies were ready.

He grabbed the plate he'd set out with his supplies, poured some alcohol onto it and then put the lid back on the bottle, securing it tight.

His hand shook a little when he grabbed the crop and wet it down with the alcohol.

He spread some of the alcohol across the upper portion of her back, using the tip of the crop to do it then grabbed the lighter and lit the crop into a torch.

The second the flame licked at the wetness on her back, she sighed and almost cooed what sounded like a "Yesss!"

A second later, he put out the fire on her skin with his hands, sweeping it away, and then he blew out the torch.

Fuck—that was fantastic—the way it flickered across her skin in an unearthly way. He touched the spot and it was a little warm, but there was no hint it had been ablaze a moment ago.

"Alice. I need to hear your words—tell me what color you are," he said.

"Green, Master," she slurred and licked her lips then nuzzled into the towel, with a lazy grin in place.

"You say if it's too much by telling me yellow. I'm going to do that again, but in a different area," he warned.

Once more, the crop was submerged in the liquid, he spread it across her lower back, the same thing happened—he lit her, she made an appreciative sound, and he swiped the flame away.

When he got to her legs, the place she always wanted to scrub raw from the things Tim did to her, he found himself praising her endlessly and retraining her thoughts.

"You're such a good girl, so clean now. I'm purifying your skin to match your glowing, pure heart. Do you feel how clean you are as I wash you with fire?" He blew the flame off her flesh, and he felt like the fire was under his skin, lapping at his chest, burning him with a passion for this woman, lying prostrate before him, giving in to his will.

"Mmmhhhaaah," she mewled and her leg wobbled for a second then relaxed completely.

He walked the flame up her thigh and when he got to her ass, she moaned.

The same thing happened on the other side.

Her entire body had been set to flame, and when he was done, he wrapped her up in the towel, wiping off any residue left behind.

When she opened her eyes, something overcame him.

"I love you, Alice, and I want you to wear my collar. I don't want a slave—I just want you," he said.

She blinked with a dazed look, smiled and cooed, "Yes, Master. I want that too."

He pulled the towel off her, stripped down, and moved her over to the dry area of the blanket, then made love to her slowly and without any fear of her harming herself again.

She was whole. He could feel it.

**A/N:**

**Thank you to my pre-readers: Paxson Adkins, Boo1414 and Soapy Mayhem. And a massive hug to my new beta on this story, Shenani Whatagans.**

**If you're interested in what a violet wand and 7 wheel pinwheel look like, here are some links so you can check it out:**

**Http (colon) . **

**Http (colon) . This one is similar to the violet wand, but I shared it because if you're daring enough, watch the video. Holy hell. I want one of those!**

**I plan to fix some issues in the first few chapters soon that I realize now are huge errors in regards to this lifestyle. I laugh now when I think about how much I thought I knew when I began writing this months ago. It's been a journey to find out exactly how inexplicably radiant and beautiful this lifestyle is. If I never wrote another word after today, I'd be forever grateful that I wrote this story because of the amazing people I've met, the things I've discovered about myself along the way, and most of all, I'll always be thrilled that I got a glimpse of and got to touch a bit of Heaven without even realizing I was doing it at the onset.**

**This story's wrapping up. I've already written the next few chapters. Need to fix a few issues then I'll send them off to my beta and pre-readers.**

**Book rec for this chapter, and it's one of my absolute favorites; I've read it several times—**_**Bared to You: A Crossfire Novel**_ **by Sylvia Day. I really loved the second book as well, but the first in the series is by far my favorite. The third book should be coming out soon, and I can barely wait! Some people compare it to Fifty Shades and say it's a rip-off, but I disagree. If you read it, or have already done so, you'll have to tell me what you think… I could talk about this book forever—it's that good! The BDSM themes in regards to toys haven't surfaced much yet, but his Dom demeanor—whoa! It jumps off the page and sucks me in—mind, body, soul and breath! It's a very angst heavy story though, so you've been forewarned. But I think it's completely worth it. The writing is exhilarating and captivating; it's the reason I've read it multiple times and it's got highlights all over it.**

**Thank you also to all my readers that review and share their thoughts and encouragement along the way! It means a lot to me you were willing to take a risk on this story.**

**And when I say risk, I don't mean to run on and out and buy a crop to be used as a torch, a lighter and some rubbing alcohol. People in this lifestyle that do fireplay, train and know what they're doing. Remember, the key words are always safe, sane and consensual. This story is by no means a how-to light your lover's skin on fire and then live happily ever after. Do the research, put in the time before you ever consider something like this.**

**That's it for now… Happy Easter to those of you celebrate it!**

**Chanse**


	17. Chapter 17

**Chapter 17**

Edward's chest was constricting so tight and spasming out of control as he walked up to Jasper's place to retrieve her, he was afraid he might not make it without looking like a total ass.

God, he'd missed her terribly, and she had only been gone a few hours.

This was too much.

No more separating. Not unless it was necessary.

He couldn't take this.

His fist balled up and he pounded on the door harder than necessary, but dammit, he needed to see her.

Did she have fun? Did she miss him at all?

The door swung open, and there stood his radiant girl, all gorgeous and smiling with wet lashes.

"You've been crying," he said.

"I have, and, Sir, it was wonderful!" she said and flung herself at him.

"God," he moaned and inhaled, burrowing his nose in her hair right away. "You smell . . . Christ. Need this." He pressed several kisses into her head.

"Not as much as I need and missed you," she responded. Her arms tightened around him.

"You didn't text me, so it must not've been that bad," he said, chuckling.

He picked her up off her feet and had her up against the wall outside Jasper's door. His lips were on hers instantly, and he was breathing the air coming directly from her lungs. "Don't make me wait. Come home with me now."

"Yes, Sir. I want that, too."

"You'll stay the night," he said.

"Thank God." She smiled wider.

He smacked her ass, groped it and then dragged her to his car. His arms were keeping a fierce grip on her so she wouldn't get away.

"And, may I tell you something, Sir?"

"Please," he said, helping her into the car.

"I love looking at you, and having you here next to me; my God, it's better than good," she said, squeezing his forearm and then letting go with a giddy giggle.

"Fuck, you're too damn cute; love hearing that laugh of yours. Now, _that's_ better than good," he said and shut the door.

Once he was in the driver's seat, she leaned toward him and inhaled deeply.

"Best. Smell. Ever," she said and bared her teeth at him.

Fuck. Harder than steel. She wasn't playing fair. And where was his self-control? His grip on the wheel was shaky already. She needed to shut up before he fucked her in Jasper's driveway.

"Thank you, but you need to be quiet now. No more talking 'til we get to my place."

"May I at least say thank you again, Sir?"

"No."

He started the car and shifted in his seat to get comfortable. There was no relief. Not from her when she smelled this good and kept giggling. Might as well fuck her now, get it over with.

He looked over at her, and those deep, soulful eyes of hers shined with nothing but mischief.

"Do you need to go home and get a bag of stuff to stay over?" he asked, cutting straight to what mattered. She was going to be near him at all times the rest of this evening.

She sealed her lips shut and giggled even more. The damn woman shook her head with a smirk affixed in place.

He reached over and pinched her thigh.

"A whipping. You're getting one tonight, and I won't stop 'til I'm satisfied."

She stifled a loud laugh and her abs contracted as she pushed herself further back into her seat.

When they got to his house, his legs were coiled so tight, he sprung out of the car at lightning speed and had her car door wrenched open so fast, she flinched and blinked like she'd missed it being pried apart.

"Get in these hands now," he growled.

She leapt to her feet and wrapped her arms around him. "Mmm . . . _These_ hands, Sir?" She hummed and chased his hands down with her look of desire.

He pulled her into him, pinned her arms behind her with one of his hands. "No more going away. I can't stand it. You're mine—understand?"

She nodded, he kissed the corner of her mouth with a slight nip and he released her. He locked up the car, took her by the hand and all but dragged her inside by the hair.

When did he become such a caveman?

Her hair fell down her shoulders around her breasts, and he gave her a heated look.

Who fucking cared what he acted like? She was back, wasn't she? And she was soft, and beautiful, and all his for the night.

No one else was going to take her away.

Once inside, he said, "Tell me everything there is to know about your adventure tonight. I can handle it now that I'm not in a tiny enclosed space, inhaling your hypnotizing scent."

Her left brow popped up and her lips parted. "Oh, Sir, I almost forgot; before I tell you about tonight . . . I have something for you."

She dug her hand in her right pocket and held something concealed in her fist.

His heart hammered in his chest so hard, it rushed up to his head and he could hear the blood pounding in his ears.

"I hope it's not rude to do this, Sir, but I really wanted you to have this." She stepped toward him, held her fist out.

He opened his palm in front of her and she slowly released it into his hand and then closed his fingers over it so he couldn't see what it was.

"It's nothing worth any kind of money, but it has some sentimental value to me. I think you'll understand why I'm giving this to you," she said.

He opened his hand to reveal her cross necklace he'd seen her wear a few times.

"You're giving this to me?" He gaped at it.

"Yeah. I want you to have it. You can throw it away if you'd like; I don't need it anymore. My dad gave that to me forever ago, and he demanded I always wear it so I could remember how unworthy I was to be his daughter. I don't care what he thinks about me in that way anymore, or at least not enough to think about it when I'm here with you or during my regular workday. You've helped me feel like I don't have to wear it like a weight around my neck, dragging me down to hell." She smiled but it was wary with an edge of hopefulness.

"My God," he said in a hushed, gravelly voice. "I can't believe you're giving me this."

"It's not a . . . Well, Sir, I thought maybe . . ." She turned away from him and her hands balled up in fists at her sides. She scuffed her right foot on the floor. "Shit! I shouldn't have . . ."

"Don't you fucking dare," he said, grabbing her by the arm and spinning her around to face him. "This is breathtaking, I'm just an idiot because I lack the words to express how floored I am by this gesture. You're too good to me." He leaned over and kissed her softly, but with so much feeling she looked like her knees were about to buckle on her. He gripped her tight for support.

"I . . . Wow," she whispered. "I'm glad you like it, Sir."

"I fucking love it," he gritted. "And I love that you did this. It's a big deal."

"Not that big a deal," she said, her eyes moving to his lips.

"You want more—that's what you're telling me. If you trust me enough to give me this, then you want more," he said, stepping closer into her. His hips shifted into her.

Tonight—he could do it tonight. Finally fuck her. It seemed like she knew more who she was now, but . . .

No. First she had one more emotional step to take. And it already seemed like he'd given her so much more than any other sub he ever had. Making love to her would only complete it. He could wait just a little bit longer . . . He could hold out for her.

"Bella, I know what this means, and I do know what you want. You want me to fuck you—I know how you think. And I want that too—more than you know, but there's one last thing I want to happen first. I don't want you to feel sad or think you're doing something wrong. But there's one last circumstance I need to square away before we get to that point."

She blinked and her lips parted open, her face paled.

"Please, trust me, little one," he said, brushing the back of his right fingers down her cheek.

He held up the hand with the necklace in it. "This is amazing—and I won't ever forget this stunning, intelligent," she leaned into his touch, "caring woman gave it to me. I'll keep it safe with me at all times."

She exhaled and the faint curl of her breath pushed back his fingers, making them flex and want to burrow and bunch into her hair when he finally plunged his dick inside her.

He removed his hand off her then tucked her necklace in his pocket.

She smiled with her eyes glazed over.

A thrill of satisfaction burned deep inside him—she trusted him, or she wouldn't be able to look at him that way.

Fuck. He groaned at himself.

His mind was starting to go nuts on him, telling him he was a stupid bastard for waiting for this one last piece to be in place before finding his way inside of her, so he shut it up by thrusting his tongue inside her mouth, picking her up and carrying her into his bedroom.

He set her down on the edge.

"Bedtime," he told her. Tomorrow he could set this all in motion quicker.

She pouted immediately. "But I . . ."

"No. Bed. Five minutes to get ready, then you get your naked ass in my bed. You'll let me hold you how I see fit, you'll tell me about how tonight went, and there are some things I want to discuss with you, too before we can move forward."

She blinked, tugged at her shirt in a methodical way, and he reached over and yanked her hair.

"Hey!" she said, laughing.

"Hey, my ass. Do as you're told, bratty, or I'll have to punish you, and I'd rather have your naked body all over me tonight," he said, smirking.

Her cheeks flamed in an instant, and suddenly, her ass was flying around the room, disrobing, getting ready for bed.

"Better," he muttered, and he set to work, too.

They were both in bed, tucked up together in less than three minutes. Their legs were entangled, and he was breathing in the all-consuming scent of her. My God, she smelled exactly how a woman should—none of that spicy, flowery shit that made his nose itch.

"I'm going to touch you the entire time you're talking, so no complaints, and feel free to talk for a really long time," he said. "My hands wanna be busy with you." He cupped her breasts and swiped his fingertips lazily across her nipples.

They hardened, and he burned.

His hips ground into her and he nibbled at her neck.

She giggled softly. "What's gotten into you, Sir?"

"You. You're what's gotten into me," he answered. "You're what always gets into me."

He flipped her over so she was lying on his chest off to the side.

"I wish," she muttered under her breath, tucking her chin into the side of his pec.

"I know you're waiting for me to . . . But not yet. Soon. You said you'd trust me, so do it."

"But what are you waiting for, Sir? Can you please tell me? It's making me crazy," she said, slapping her right palm onto the center of his chest.

"I think you already know why."

"No, I don't. And I want to know, Sir. If you value my sanity at all, you'll tell me." Her eyes burned into him.

He sighed and put his right arm behind his head. How to say this so she didn't take it the wrong way? "You remember that night I was in your bed after the whole Tim incident, and you were trying to be sneaky about goading me into fucking you?"

"Of course I do, Sir. How could I forget? It was a long, god-awful night."

She tipped her head back like she was trying to get a better view of him.

"I knew then that you were only doing this because it meant sex to you—exciting sex. And that's not why I got involved," he began.

Her face paled.

"See, I knew I'd say it wrong and fuck this up." He exhaled and pushed her off for a moment so he could sit up against the headboard then he pulled her onto his lap. She wiggled for a moment then settled in place. "You're not just about a quick fuck to me, Bella. You're more than that. You're a bright, sweet, sensitive woman, and I enjoy being with you. I wanted you to see those things about yourself as well and quit selling yourself short. If I'd fucked you right away, you would've thought you'd gotten what you wanted and moved back to your destructive way of life with men. In order to keep you around to explore further, push deeper into who you really are, I had to give you incentives to stay."

"So, you manipulated me," she intoned.

"No. I found what you wanted, and worked with it to help you find what you really needed."

She frowned. "That sounds like you're twisting the truth around."

"You can think what you want, but tell me this—I read all your journal entries tonight—"

"All of them?" Her voice went up along with her skyrocketing eyebrows.

"Yes, all of them. I had to know what you were feeling, if I was getting through to you, past your shield since most of the time you're too embarrassed to tell me the truth without me exhaustively digging for it."

She exhaled and her head tipped forward. "I feel . . ." she averted her eyes ". . . kind of used now, and almost violated."

He pinched her thigh.

She rolled off his lap and landed on her side. When she tried to turn away from him, he stopped her from going any further. He whispered into her shoulder, "Whose journals do you think those are? They belong to me. Don't do this—not now. Not after all we've been through already and how hard we both worked to get you here. I did it to help, not harm you. You're thinking like the old you—that you're supposed to be upset about this, but you know me. You know I did this so we could move forward, and I did it because I care about you—about us. There's no reason to be upset or feel hurt. Look deep inside yourself, and you'll realize you're not really hurt like you think you are."

"What am I supposed to feel, Edward—huh? I mean, you warned me you'd probably read them, but I guess I trusted you wouldn't." She rolled her shoulder back to get him off.

He flipped her over so she was facing him once more. "Stop this, now. You're acting like a spoiled child."

"Am not!" She said and actually stuck out her tongue. "You don't get to dictate how I feel."

"Okay, have it your way." He stood up then sat on the edge of the bed. "Over my knee, now."

"No."

"It wasn't a request, little one. You're acting out, trying to get fucked again, and I'm not going to tolerate it. We have a lot to discuss, and my dick being inside you tonight isn't part of the plan for a very good reason. You're proving it right now. And obviously, being away from me was as hard on you as it was for me," he said. "So time to correct this."

"I'd rather leave if it's all the same to you," she said, getting up and moving toward her clothes.

"You can do that, yes, but you'll go back to _what_? Think about it, Bella. I read your innermost thoughts, and not once did I read about heartache or regret over being with me. What I saw was astounding. I saw you clawing your way straight to me because you know I have the power to free that soul inside you. You've been happy with me, and it's been the same for me with you. I'm not going to allow you to ruin this because you're having a momentary lapse in judgment you think requires you to act bratty."

"You have—you've been happy with me?" Her hands went lax at her sides.

"Yes, very much so." He nodded and smiled.

"I . . ."

"Over my knee," he said, pointing at his lap.

"You're still going to, after all you just said, Sir?"

"Yes." He bit the corner of his lower lip and smiled with a deviant, devilish smirk. "If you think I'd let you get away without punishment, then you clearly think you've been dealing with another man entirely."

"May I pick what you use, Sir?"

"You may, but I get to choose how many swats and the intensity it's administered with." He motioned for her to go to the playroom and pick something.

She stood motionless, swaying a little like she was getting woozy.

"I think . . . Just your hand," she said.

"I'll do a few that way, but you're gonna do better than that. And right now." He pointed at the doorway.

She left the room, and was gone a few minutes. He could hear her sighing in frustration from the other room.

"You have two minutes, subbie, and if you're not back with it in that time frame, I'll fetch you and choose whatever I wish, along with adding a few more swats for making me wait," he warned.

She rushed through the door a moment later with a flogger.

"I don't think so," he growled. "No more games. Grab my belt on the floor over there."

She picked it up and held it out to him from across the room as if she wanted him to come retrieve it from her. He chuckled.

Funny. She thought she was in charge here?

"Secure it around your waist, and crawl over to me, wearing it."

"Are you shitting me, Sir?" Her mouth hung open.

"Now. And I'll add an extra smack for that dirty mouth of yours." He beckoned to her with his finger, smiling at her like she was caught and it was nothing but ridiculous how she was still acting childish.

"You're really enjoying this aren't you, Sir?"

"Oh, yes. You need this, and so do I. Then we can get back to where we need to be. And I may have to do something about the way you're looking at me right now, too."

She wiped the naughty, turned-on look off her face, dropped to her knees and fastened the belt around her with shaking fingers.

"Crawl slowly. I need to get something to prepare you for this experience," he said. He got up, walked over to the nightstand and pulled out the lube.

When he turned back to her, those gorgeous, deep eyes lit up and her breath caught.

He sat back down, set the lube aside but within reach and rubbed his palms over his thighs.

"Up, subbie."

She went onto her knees.

"Take the belt off and offer it to me with your teeth. Show me you mean it—that you want this—that you want to continue with me."

Her brows slid together and she gave him an incredulous look, but went about unfastening the belt anyway that was entirely too large for her slim waistline.

He couldn't stop smiling at how sexy she looked, crawling around naked, his belt around her before he spanked her. Jesus, he could look at that all day.

"Now, when I take this from your mouth, I expect you to say, 'Thank you, Sir,' and then you hop right up here on my lap." He eyed her with a look that said she better comply right away.

She nodded, put the belt between her teeth and without him instructing her, she kept her lips off the leather.

"Good girl. Such an obedient little thing," he said, patting her head.

She growled and rolled her eyes.

He took the belt from her, took both ends in hand, pushed toward the middle and snapped the two lengths together to make a lovely, loud cracking sound.

"Thank you, Sir," she said quietly.

"Very nice." He set the belt aside next to the lube.

She shivered and maneuvered herself up onto his lap.

"I don't suppose it would earn me any points to tell you I realized tonight after talking to the girls that I need to be more obedient and stop fighting you?"

He shook his head.

She bit her lip for a second. "I also told them what an incredible, hot body you have," she squeaked.

"No more trying to talk your way out of this." He stroked her ass and she hung limp over his lap. "Each time I strike this tight behind, I want you to tell me a reason you're being punished, and if they start to sound all the same, I'll tack on an extra swat. I want you thinking. And you make sure to call me Sir each time."

"Yes, Sir."

"God, I love this ass. Love how round it is and how soft your skin is here." He drew random patterns with his fingertips and watched his fingers roam around her lush backside. "Love squeezing it." He dug in and then went back to caressing. "Love thinking about fucking it all the time. You'd like that, wouldn't you? Fuck you here first, before I'm in your pussy. So tight and hot, pulling me in with your greedy little opening. "

"Ohhhhh Gaaaawd," she moaned.

"Quiet," he said then ran his finger up and down her crack. "I'm so pleased you trust me to do this for you. Correction's important. It lets you get over mistakes and move on. It helps us be united."

She snorted, and that was when he began.

He gave five warm up spanks, to get the blood flowing, heat the skin and keep from inflicting any real damage.

Once she was comfortable again, he inhaled. "I love smelling your pussy out in the open—inhaling it in my air. And with you over my lap, my dick gets really hard and my mouth waters. What do you think I'd like to do when I invade that ass? Should I use my tongue first to get you real wet? Should I finger you deep, stretch you wide for my big cock as I spread my fingers apart to make room for me? Hmm? Make you gape then slide my tongue in real deep? You'd wanna feel that—all of it."

She groaned.

"Or maybe I should use a dildo or a vibe, show your ass what it's been missing? But you have to be a good girl first to receive all that pleasure. Have to earn it—I don't give that away for free." His hands kneaded into her skin, stroked and warmed her propped up cheeks even more. "And you started out the evening so well, giving me that lovely gift, then you tried to take it back by picking a fight with me over something you had no right to. I want to hold my little one, play with her, but she has other things in mind, doesn't she? Well, that's gonna be fixed now."

His hand flew.

_Smaaaaack!_

"Hoh shit!" she yelped and bounced on his lap.

He tickled his fingers around that reddened spot.

"Reason for that swat? Hmm . . . ?"

"Uh . . . Christ, I don't . . ."

"You want me to add another?"

"No! Fuck, no." She groaned. "I was being bratty, Sir. And I'm sorry. There was no good reason for it. I forgot myself."

"I know you're a good girl. That's why we're doing this—why I'm disappointed. I'm reminding you of who you are and how amazing you've been. If you weren't sorry you really would have left. But your heart is so big and sweet, you won't disappoint me again. You won't do that, will you? You don't want to hurt me, little one. And that would've wounded me deeply if you'd gone home."

_Smmmmaaaaack!_

"God, Jesus!" she whimpered then gasped a tight breath. "For . . . Shit! That was for trying to get you to f-fuck me. I just want you so bad, and I didn't understand why. I won't do it again."

"That's right. And who's in charge here? Who decides when that happens?"

"You, Sir."

"Good girl. Such a smart one." He caressed her skin. Her cheeks flexed, and he knew it was probably prickling.

He placed one hand on the curve of her cheek, exploring the sweet, tender flesh close to her inner thigh. Then with the other hand, he took his belt in hand and struck again.

"Cccuuuuuhhhhh," she exhaled and her entire body contracted into a fierce spasm.

"Relax into it. I'm only giving you six. You're halfway there. Now, reason?"

"I . . . Uh, fuck!" She took a few breaths in rapid succession and he settled his hands on her lower back.

"I can jog your memory by giving an extra push with my hand," he said.

"No, Sir. I know what I did wrong." She pushed her chest up for a second and acted like she was going to look at him, but didn't. "I was regressing."

"Yes, you were, naughty one. I don't like that." He blew across her ass and then stroked it some more. "It's so much better when you listen to me and keep moving forward."

He reached between his legs, adjusting himself for a second. She was inching up on his cock, crowding his balls.

"Is there a reason you're wiggling around so much right now?" he asked.

"You're hard, Sir." She lifted her chest and head and was staring at his erection.

"I've been hard ever since I read your journals tonight."

"I think maybe you've been hard ever since I agreed to be your sub," she muttered.

"What's that?"

"Nothing, Sir."

"Smart-mouthing while you're on my lap? Not wise, little one. But I know how to punish you for that one," he said. "This ass needs to be explored in more depth."

She stiffened and sucked in a tight breath.

"Spread 'em wider. I need better access to what I want."

She awkwardly tried to pull her legs apart.

"Here," he said, hooking her left leg so it was between both of his.

Before she could protest . . .

_Smmmmaaaaack!_

The belt lashed out on her thigh, the one spread across his leg.

"I w-was shutting you out, Sir. And I didn't mean to. I don't need any more prompts. I'll behave. I can do this," she said, dragging in long, gulps of air. Her voice was shaking.

"Do you like this?"

"No."

"You're not going to do this again, are you—pushing my buttons, trying to get your way."

"I won't—promise, Sir."

"Good. I know you'll keep to your word."

She nodded and her eyes were full of guilt.

"It's okay, sweetheart. We're almost done. And then you'll get your other punishment," he said.

"But I . . . I'm sorry," she cried and the tears started.

"It's all right. I'm here for you. Two more."

"O-kay," she sniffed.

She settled into his lap, and this time he dropped the belt. Her weight sagged into him and she gave this exhale that finally sounded like she understood—like she was giving in to it—to _him_.

His entire chest warmed and he could barely contain the elation filling him up inside.

She was his. _Finally_.

And it only took him helping her face this unspoken fear—the worry of how he'd react if she ever truly tried to push and be a snot. Would he run like the other men in her life had or turn away from her?

Now she knew. He'd always be there for her. He'd accept she'd have ugly moments and want to lash out. His job was to get her back on track, and that was what he was doing right now—all because he couldn't ever imagine turning away from a creature as lovely and as inspiring as she was. She took his breath away, and even in this moment, breathing raggedly, barely holding on, she was more stunning than ever.

He had to finish. Almost there. He'd never take short cuts with her. She was worth too much to him—too precious.

_Smmmmaaaack!_

His hand went to the other thigh.

"Hoooohhhh," she rasped a deep, scraping breath.

"Feels different, doesn't it? Feels cathartic now that you've let go; freeing, and so fucking fantastic, it's taking you places you never dreamed you'd go. This is what happens when you trust me. This is how you find who you really are, and you're beautiful—all of you."

"I . . . was . . ." She inhaled deeply and her muscles all went lax as she continued on, explaining another way she'd wronged him, "Choosing not to listen to you. I wanted you to just listen to me. I was being bossy, Sir. It was stupid, and I'm ashamed I did that and acted that way. You didn't deserve that when you've been nothing but wonderful to me."

"Oh, such a good girl. So intelligent. And since you shared two reasons with me for your punishment, I'll take away the extra one I was going to add on at the end."

He stared at her crack and imagined rimming the slit of her wet pussy. Her arousal hung in the air. He had gotten through to her, and that in itself was a huge fucking rush. He knew she most likely felt the same way in this instant.

He growled, "You're so fucking good. God, I can't wait to have your pussy on my tongue; love your taste. You taste so delicious, I have no choice but to eat you out all the time, and you deserve it after taking your punishment so well."

She moaned louder than should've been possible with her stomach pressing into his legs.

Her body inched toward his cock again.

"You wanna be fucked. You want this hard dick inside you?"

"Yes, Sir. Can you please punish me some more. I'm ready to be with you—to talk to you and listen to whatever you want to share with me," she said.

_God, you know how to make me go all soft inside._

"You think you've learned your lesson?"

"Mmhmm, I have," she answered. "Definitely, Sir." She whimpered at the end.

"Do you think I agree with you?"

His fingers massaged her butt cheeks.

"Yes."

He chuckled. "And why do you think that?"

"Because I promised myself I would stop trying to hide, and I don't lie; neither do you. I won't be bratty again. The best part of me is the part that pleases you."

"God," he whispered under his breath and his dick throbbed.

"So, please, may I . . . Sir, will you finish so I can be in your arms? I think I need that."

"Me, too."

_Smaaaaack!_

He went hardest on the final one so she wouldn't forget this lesson.

"You took that so well, but stay where you are. You have a little more coming," he said.

She choked on a mewling sob.

"I'll keep you safe—promise. Trust me," he said. "And you're going to show me right now—prove how much you trust me as you lie still and let me do whatever I want to this gorgeous ass of yours."

He pinched softly up and down her cheeks and she went from a step away from crying to gasping for a moment in pleasure.

"Tingles, doesn't it? Your skin's all hot to the touch, and it fucking turns me on so much, just as it does you. I'm leaking for you," he said.

She turned her head, and sure enough, there was pre-come sitting on top of his dick like a treat ready to be sucked down.

"You want it, don't you? You want to lick it, but you can't have it. Not yet. Naughty girls don't get what they want. And I'm not done with your final punishment."

He grabbed the lube, moistened his index finger with it and then slid it between her open legs.

Having her spread wide like this made for an awkward spanking, but this was why he wanted her situated this way—so he could toy with her anus.

"All for me. You've saved this virgin hole for me, didn't you? Because you knew I'd make love to it, treat it right. You knew how much I wanted this, how much I'd love to fuck this tight, unexplored hole."

Her back arched as he pushed the tip in.

"What color are you, my little one?"

"Gr-green, so greeeeen, Sir."

"I knew you would be. Know how I was aware of this?"

"Mmm . . . No," she murmured.

Her hands flew down to the ground. "Sir, may I grab your leg?"

"Yes, you may if you answer my question first."

"I . . . I think it's because you know I'm sorry."

"Close, but no." He paused. "Grab my leg, and hold on because I'm gonna finger your asshole hard in a minute."

The tendons in her neck stood out and she gripped his leg, but it wasn't as hard as he'd expected her grip to be. It was more like she was kneading her hands into him, making love back, needing to touch him somehow, too.

"You're green, and I knew you would be because you want to please me, and you already do. You know in your heart how proud I am, how crazy I get for you when you try to let yourself out of that cage your head locks you in. You're beautiful," he pushed in to the first knuckle and pumped slowly, "powerful," _pump, pump, slide,_ "in your submissiveness, and I love how you offer yourself up to me. Gets me every damn time."

Her cheeks opened as she relaxed and he inserted his finger from his right hand all the way in. He pushed toward her vaginal wall, finding her G-spot through the fleshy barrier.

She gasped several times, and it would get cut off at the back of her throat.

"Oh. My. God!" she gritted.

"It's supposed to be punishment," he teased.

"Oh, fuuuuuck! Please . . ."

He pushed a little harder.

She exhaled in choppy bursts and then started thrusting her hips backward into his finger.

"You like that, don't you? Wanna be a slut all for me. You like having your ass fucked with my fingers. I know what you like."

She nodded and he could tell she was zoning out on him, able to focus only on absorbing all the sensations.

"You wanna come, don't you?"

Again another slight nod and a whiny moan.

He pulled back and inserted a second finger.

"Oh—I . . . It's too muuuuch," she said.

"You can handle it. I spanked you. Are you telling me this is more difficult to handle than me spanking you?"

"Yes!"

_Smaaaack!_

It wasn't nearly as hard as the others, but he struck in a spot that had already been hit.

"Shiiiiit! Sir, I need to . . . I . . . Can I come?" she asked, her voice cracking and filled with urgency.

She squirmed in his lap. He pushed hard through the rectum wall and hit her G-spot relentlessly.

She bucked then convulsed for a second. He smiled.

"No, you may not. I'm not done with you."

He pulled his fingers out, propped her up on the bed on all fours as quick as he could, and sucked at her gaping hole before the muscle closed back up.

His tongue delved inside as far as he could get it, and he slipped his two fingers from his left hand into her pussy.

Jesus, she was drenched and so ready to be fucked hard.

His dick pulsed and engorged so thick with blood, a tight aching sound drifted out of his chest.

He took her right to the edge, and just as her pussy was closing in on his fingers, he retracted and stuck with playing right at the entrance.

"Please, Sir . . . Please, I'll do anything. Can I come?"

"No."

"Aaaaaaaaggggaaawdamn!" she groaned and fisted the bedspread.

He slipped his fingers back in, licked, sucked and moaned louder than she did.

Did she have to make him want her so badly? Make him go insane with an undying lust for her?

Once more, with his fingers slipping over that slippery G-spot that was watering for him, he pulled out and pushed her down, flat onto her stomach.

His fingers were out of her, and he pumped himself furiously. In seconds, he was gripping her ass with one hand, making himself squirt all over the markings he'd made on her with the other.

He spread his come all over her, rubbing it into her skin as she shook beneath him with frustration and bursting sexual tension.

"Pleeeeeease!" she almost shouted.

He took a stuttering inhale. "Punishment is supposed to teach you. Have you learned now?" he managed to grit through his locked jaw. "Mmmnnn . . ." He fought off a dying moan. Christ she looked sexy as sin, her glowing ass held down by one hand, his come all over her.

His body was still coming down off that orgasm, struggling to let it go.

That's what she did to him. It was unreal the way she made him feel.

"Yes! Dammit, I _hate_ this!"

"You're supposed to." He finally let go of her, put the lube away and grabbed the arnica cream out of the drawer and tended to the red areas on her ass and thighs.

When he was done, he got her some water and ignored her glares as he gave her some ibuprofen then wrapped her up in his arms.

"Tell me how you feel now,"

"I don't know," she said. "Confused."

"Why?"

"Because I wanted to get off, but I feel like shit, too. I know I screwed up, and I thought the spanking was supposed to make it better." She blew out some air and a few stray strands flew off her face. "I worry you're still upset with me."

"I'm not. It's over. You did it—and I'm so proud of you. It's all erased, and now we can get back to where we were before, where we're supposed to be."

He brushed a few more hairs off her face for her.

"You swear you're not mad?"

He chuckled. "Not at all."

He hugged her into him.

"And do you think you deserve to get what you want now because you submitted to my will?"

"Well, I . . . I don't know. I just want to make you happy, and I hope I can do that again someday. That you w-won't be too afraid to trust me." Tears slid down her cheeks, moistening his chest.

"Sweetheart, you're the kindest soul I've ever met. I know you didn't do any of that deliberately, so of course I trust you. This was a bump in the road, and you picked yourself back up, allowed me to help you back to your feet when you fell. I'm honored I got to be on this part of the journey with you." He kissed the top of her head.

She sighed and snuggled into him.

"Why do I feel like I'll never have enough of you?"

"Because you want more. I do, too. We'll get there. Patience." He rested his chin on the top of her head and held her tight.

"I'm scared, Edward."

He shifted then leaned down, tipped her chin up with a hand. "Scared of what? Of me, because I spanked you?"

"No." Her eyes flooded once more. "I know it's odd, but that was satisfying on a lot of levels. I think the anticipation was almost worse than the actual spanking in some ways, because it was with you, and I trust and care about you. You said some of the most validating and sexy things in my entire life, so I can't ever regret it."

"Then what?" He ran his index finger down the bridge of her nose.

Her eyes went heavy.

"I'm scared of how much power you have over me. I want to give you everything, and I think that's why I freaked out. You didn't even have to ask—it was given freely—and when I realized what I'd done, how you'd see right to the core of me with those journal entries, I panicked. What if you didn't like what you read?"

"I loved every last word of it." He smiled.

She burst into tears.

"But that doesn't tell me how you feel about me now—not now that I pushed you so hard, you had no choice but to punish me, and I know you don't like punishing. You've told me before."

"What are you truly worried about, little one, because I can tell you're holding something back?" He rubbed his nose across hers with a few little passes and brushed the tears off her cheeks.

"I love you!" she sobbed.

A flood of emotions rushed through him, drowned all thoughts, stripping his breath from him.

His vision blurred for a moment and he closed his eyes, tipped his head up to gain his bearings back.

_Okay, Edward, think . . . Don't rush this. Don't scare her off._

Did she really mean it? Or was this simply her emotions exploding out of her after being through something so intense? It was hard to know. And he would only tell her the same if he knew for certain she meant it. He didn't want it to be coerced out of her and blurted because it was merely how she felt in the moment.

Tomorrow, when she was her normal, day-to-day self, if she said it at that point, then he'd know.

"Sweet girl . . ."

"How do you feel about m-me?"

"I think it's pretty obvious I'm crazy about you," he said, stroking her hair and kissing her temple. "You're in my thoughts constantly."

"Can you tell me why you're crazy about me? Because most of the time I feel like you just put up with me and my insanity."

"Of course I can tell you; I'd love to, but first, I want to tell you something, and then you'll tell me all about tonight with your friends."

She nodded and then stroked his chest, the sheet forgotten and left behind.

"We're taking a trip this weekend. We'll need to be at a scene to support Rose and Emmett this Friday night out in public, and then home and straight to bed. Early Saturday morning, we'll be going somewhere and we won't be back until late Sunday night."

"Where are we going?"

"Somewhere important . . . Somewhere we both need to be, and that's all I'm going to share, so don't ask again."

She sighed and kissed his chest. "Yes, Sir. I won't pry. And thank you for punishing me because I deserved it and needed that."

He sighed. "You're welcome."

"I hope it's okay—but I told the girls I'm in love with you." She blinked and went stiff in his arms.

"It's fine because I'm pretty sure they already know I love you, too." _Not the plan, idiot. You should've waited . . ._

Oh, who was he kidding—he couldn't wait for anything when it came to her. He was a mess inside when he even thought about her moving on to another Dom.

"You do?" she gasped. She sat up, stared at him with her jaw hanging open.

"I do, Bella. More than you can possibly know."

"But y-you . . . You told me when you'd say this to me, it would be because it was real. So this is real?" Her voice went high and airy.

He chuckled. "I never lie, and you know that better than anyone." He reached around and caressed her ass.

She grinned back. "I do."

He rolled over her and kissed her until she was breathless and begging for more.

**A/N:**

**Whoa, I know it was a long wait once more, but I wrote this chapter a while back and it didn't sit right with me. It was just off. I rewrote almost half of it, and finally found the right balance. Thank you once more to my beta, Shenaniwhatagans and my pre-readers. They do a fabulous job! So helpful.**

**Chanse**


	18. Chapter 18

**Chapter 18**

"Yes, I'm gonna be on site today, and you keep your hands to yourself, or I'll smack the words 'Bitch's Tool' into your ass," Rose threatened.

"Promise?" Emmett teased.

She laughed. "So naughty; my pet must be desperate. I'm bringing cuffs to keep you at bay as I roam around the grounds today."

"Mistress, will you be wearing the black tight pencil skirt?"

"Only if you wear a loin cloth," she said, and ended the call.

No way would she wear that skirt. It was the reason he touched her ass all those months ago when she'd been on site.

And it was pretty obvious he was hard for her. It was to the point now it was possible to predict from his voice. He'd get all low and husky and then start begging.

Almost every time she answered the phone he was touching himself, desperate for her. And my God, did she love knowing he reacted so quickly to her. She got chills sometimes simply thinking about it.

At first she forbid him to stroke himself or masturbate at all, and she'd punish him if he did it, but then she wound up punishing him more than she wanted to. This was supposed to be fun, and the guy clearly had a very strong libido. It was fun pushing his limits other ways, so she let it go and gave him permission.

For now . . .

Maybe down the line, she'd change her mind and even put a chastity belt on him. It was exhilarating to think of what that would entail . . . Where this relationship could go.

Her breath caught for a moment and she forced herself to focus on getting ready for work. She could think about those things later.

Rose put on the same bra, panty and garter belt set she wore at the club for their last scene, then put a navy blue pencil skirt over it. He wanted color and spice. This was a small concession. She wasn't a total bitch. She loved that he asked her to dress a certain way for him, and it would be fun to test his ability to withstand her at work.

He deserved it after the way he'd groped her there before.

She smirked and pulled her terracotta colored blouse on. Hopefully this would be enough color for him.

Her hair was up, tempting him to kiss her neck or nibble at her ears.

She put on a little bit of jewelry, and the highest heels she owned.

He might see her get out of the car before she donned the heavy boots and hardhat.

Maybe he could ignore those items since they were necessary.

Rose drove to work with a sappy grin on her face.

The air was light and crisp; smelled good, and her step was sure and bouncy.

She was an idiot.

This was going to be like entering a mine field since she was hornier than he was.

She last had sex two weeks ago, and it had been a week for him since she gave him that amazing blow job.

The few weeks they'd been together had been life-altering in so many ways. She adored him, and he seemed to feel the same about her. Her confidence was growing as a Domme, but there was still so much to learn and absorb for both of them. She was enjoying every moment of it.

And fuck—he was going to be there in his . . . Oh, please, be wearing his work clothes, looking like a hot piece of ass with a tool belt, low riding jeans and work boots.

Yum!

She shifted in the seat of her car.

Her stop off at the office was annoying and too time consuming. But Carl, her boss, was nice and smiling at her knowingly. That was irksome, but spurred her on to get out of the office and get to the site as quickly as possible.

The clients would be meeting there after lunch. She had to go through paperwork with the foreman, the overseeing engineer on site, who happened to be her pet. Then she had to comb the place to make sure construction had ceased.

Her phone buzzed. She was five minutes away, so she let him go to voice mail.

Her smile belied how much she loved the attention though.

_What are you gonna do if he incites you to slap him? _Her smile doubled in 'd probably masturbate to visions of it all tonight, and she'd be force to punish him for it. The man was a glutton of the worst kind.

She pulled into her parking spot and took her time listening to his message.

"Rosie-cat, please . . . hurry. I need to see you! And may I . . . fuck! May I at least hold your hand as we walk around the grounds?" His voice broke, and she could hear rustling. He was touching it again.

Jesus, he was tormenting her.

"Pussy, " she spoke into the air, even though he couldn't hear her calling him this.

She stepped out of the car and made an exaggerated moment of pulling off her stilettos. Rose curved her ass out with one foot propped up on her seat, and ran her fingers down her leg before pushing the shoe off. Then she made that boot sliding on look obscene.

Knowing him, he was watching from a great vantage point, so of course she had to put on a show for him.

A moment later the foreman approached her, so it ended with nothing more than her putting her hat on, grabbing her brief case and locking the car up.

"The lead engineer is here today," the foreman said.

"Can you remind me of his name and yours? I'm not very good at remembering names," she said, trying to hide her smirk.

It would be fun to pretend she didn't know Emmett.

"Oh, sure, I'm Craig Wilson." She saw Emmett almost running out of his trailer toward her, and of course he looked hotter than hell. The foreman continued, "Oh, here he comes now."

Emmett jointed them.

"Rosalie Hale, this is Emmett McCarty—our on-site, lead engineer."

She leaned in and shook Emmett's hand, smiling with a glint in her eyes. "Call me Rose."

"I'll show her around. My trailer has Internet connection now and the air conditioning is nice and cool," Emmett told Craig. "I know you've got a lot to do to get ready for these people to show up anyway."

Emmett settled his hand on her lower back to lead her away and she looked at him like he must have a death wish, taking the lead like this.

"I'm sorry, but he can't. It's required he take the full tour with me. Both of you," she said, stomping on his dream of getting his hands up that skirt when he cornered her in some dusty abandoned spot.

Oh, she knew her sub all too well. Naughty, naughty, naughty.

His face dropped, but only long enough for her to see it and stifle a giggle.

He was so damn adorable, and making her want him now so much she was considering how she could take control and where she could fuck him without being caught.

And why did she wear a thong again? The heated glances he was giving her was making her wet. Might as well have gone without any panties; they were doing nothing for her, except possibly giving her a nice chafing stripe on her inner thighs when she would walk around the perimeter.

"Nice skirt," he whispered in her ear in a quick pass before they began the trip.

She smiled, and patted his cock discreetly.

He choked on the air around him.

Christ. She was mean.

But she knew he loved it.

"More, Mistressss," he hissed under his breath.

She nodded then kept in line with Craig, the oblivious foreman.

Emmett was obedient for the most part, keeping his hands to himself, but barely. It was apparent to her he was struggling with it based on the way his pupils dilated, his ragged breathing and the way he stared at her backside constantly like he was dying to be in contact with her cheeks.

So many times her ass was at hand level and within grasping range, taunting him.

Right as they turned a corner, his breath pelted the back of her neck.

_Snip!_

He pinched her ass.

_Swaaaack!_

That hand flew, her eyes darkened and she wore a wide-spread devilish grin as she did it.

God yes!

It was like a well-timed orchestrated stunt.

Emmett smirked and looked ready to come in his pants.

Craig laughed. "You need to tell me something, Miss Hale?"

She snickered, "No. Do you Mr. McCarty?"

"No, but thank you for getting that mosquito on my cheek," he teased.

"Anytime," she said, her smooth rasp back in place.

Emmett turned to Craig. "She can get rid of the mosquito on your cheek too; just say the word."

They all laughed, and the tour proceeded, but with sneaky gropes and cock pats by her to make him suffer for his slip. He was once more being a good little subbie, taking whatever she gave him with his hands tucked in his pockets.

Surveillance would probably pick up some of Emmett's obvious attempts she thwarted, but none of her successful ones with him. She was like a camouflaged jungle cat, aware of the prey at all times, and never making a false move. Her strikes were accurate and timed well.

Oh well. If her boss asked, she could always feign innocence and use the mosquito excuse too, all except the one when she ran her hand up his thigh quickly but then he grabbed it and placed it on his cock before she could pull away.

Oh, yes, he'd be punished hard for that one later.

Craig was approached by someone and started talking a few feet away. While he was distracted, she took the opportunity to take her pet in hand.

She discreetly turned then pinched and twisted Emmett's nipple, and said, "Keep it up, pet, and see what happens to you. And if you come right now from this—from what I'm doing—I won't touch you once this weekend, and our scene I have planned for us will be canceled."

He nodded silently, and she let go. She knew he'd heard her, and he wouldn't touch or grab her hand like that again.

Thank God. She was the one about to come from each touch, smile and damned breath he fanned over her neck and shoulders.

Craig rejoined them. "Sorry about that."

"It's fine. Not a problem." Her phone buzzed. She opened it up, read the text and told them, "The clients are on their way."

"They're early," Emmett said.

"Yes, they are. Let's finish this as quick as we can and, Mr. McCarty, can we use your trailer since we won't have time to meet them at the main trailer? They're really anxious to get this over with. They don't even want to be here," she explained.

His hands shook. She grinned. He probably wanted to either grab her or be bound by her however she saw fit. Either would suffice and satisfy his cock she was sure. Patience.

However, her genitals disagreed. They needed more than some light bondage. They needed teeth, claws and poundings.

If he didn't keep his distance, she'd have her way.

The trailer was a trap; this was a game she could play. She'd get through this unscathed and prove to them both she was in charge and had ultimate control. She could deal with her body's urges just fine.

They quickened their pace and wound their way back to his trailer.

_His_ trailer. She smiled wider. Why did that sound sordid?

Because she was already imaging doing dirty things to him on his desk. She had rope in her car, and it was a new one she was aching to try out and break in.

Emmett's eyes were constantly on her like he was trying to read her mind and figure out what wicked plan she was devising.

Craig went into the trailer first.

"Is it about me and my cock?" Emmett whispered in her ear, and snuck in a slight graze across the back of her left thigh as he gave her his other hand to help her up into the trailer. "Tell me you're thinking about fucking me, please, Mistress. I've been good. You could reward me." He gave her the puppy dog eyes.

She smiled and whispered back, "Good by whose standards? You've been nothing but naughty."

"Oh God," he muttered.

Craig must have known something was going on between these two. He had to have figured they'd met at some point previously—it had to be as clear as the readable lust in their eyes.

The man wasn't stupid, and neither was Rosie-cat.

She could handle this, and she would.

Emmett wasn't going to be embarrassed at his job site because of her.

"Please take a seat at the desk, Ms. Hale," Emmett offered.

She sat down and the jiggle of the desk woke up his laptop.

Her gasp was caught in her throat. His screensaver was a fuzzy snapshot of them at the club after their first scene together when they were alone during aftercare.

Emmett probably watched the video footage and took a snapshot of it. Damn. He was amazing. Her heart swelled when she thought of him seeing this pic daily.

"You know, they should be here by now. I'll go see what's taking so long," Craig said.

She cleared her throat and thanked him as he turned to leave. Her eyes were still popping out of her head, and Emmett seemed to be enjoying it. Shit, she needed to pull it together. She was too overcome in the moment to think let alone speak with clients.

Craig stepped out, and the second the door clicked, she leaned over and yanked at Emmett, pulling her to him.

He straddled her lap. She unbuttoned her shirt while she had her tongue in his mouth.

"Please, Mistress, I can't wait. You can punish me later if you want, but I need this."

She groaned and gripped his cock hard through his pants, and _ziiiiip_!

His fly was open, and she reached in to find nothing but hard, straining flesh in her grip.

"No underwear . . . You listened," she said. "And might I suggest you get a more professional screensaver if you don't want me to redden that ass? I about lost it just now." Her eyes misted up.

"You like it, Mistress? I love seeing us together," he said, his tone low and thick with emotion as well. "It's moments like that I look forward to having more of—you, me, the club, in each other's arms after a scene . . . I can barely think about anything else but you."

She nodded. "I love all of that, too, and think about you constantly as well—it all means a lot to me—but you really need to change it," she replied.

"I will. I promise. Send me a different pic tonight, and I'll paste it on there right away. Maybe one for a wallpaper, too?" He breathed for a moment and his eyes went dark. "But right now . . . May I ask if you're wearing panties, Mistress?" He swallowed and grinned.

"Wouldn't you like to know?" she lilted. She wiggled herself around under him and leaned into this large, beast of a man, biting his chest. She should be intimidated, being trapped like this, but she wasn't. He was a big ol' softie, well, okay, not soft right now. Everything was hard on him, but inside, he was ready for her to mold him, like soft clay. He'd listen to her like he always did—eventually. She knew him so well. First he would whine and beg to be fucked hard, then he'd get quiet and follow her with his eyes, soaking up all her instructions, trying so hard to please her and do exactly as she said.

He groaned when he saw her bra; he figured it out.

She barked a laugh and kissed his neck then wiped her lipstick off.

"You're teasing me. You want my dick to explode? Not nice, Mistress." His lower lip jutted out again as he stared at her tits with a look of utter starvation. "I want you so bad, it hurts. Really not nice."

"Says the man roaming around the grounds with no underpants on and breaking rules, grabbing at me like I'm a piece of meat for the taking," she said then buttoned her shirt back up.

He whimpered, "He'll be gone for a while. Please . . . I need some skin. Then I can control myself better. God, please, Mistress. You're so fucking sexy, and I've dreamed so many times about being alone with you here at work."

"You need to behave because you're not going to have time for anything substantial." She pinched his inner thigh and pushed him off her.

He slid back and got up then circled around her. "Let me at least touch your breasts . . . Please, Mistress? Don't say no. I can't take it," he said, his voice low and huskier than ever. He licked between them once this morning before he went home and got ready for work, and he'd felt them pressing into his back a few different times as they took their tour. She made sure to find excuses to lean up against him, but they had yet to be cupped in his palms—poor baby. His shoulders rolled forward and his eyes were full of pain. "Please, Mistress, at least give me that. You want me to behave, and I will. I promise." He dropped to his knees.

She grinned. "Pet, you'll listen to each command I give you and follow them with exactness or I'll end this before it even starts." His face lit up and she continued with an even bigger smile, "Now, lift me onto your desk. If you promise to do what I say, I'll keep watch for our guests arrival, and I'll consider letting you lick them." She went back to unbuttoning enough of her blouse so his large hands could sneak inside.

He scrambled up off the floor. His fingers were greedy right away, reaching inside her bra and tugging at her nipples.

"Oh, God—they're hard. I love touching them." He licked his lips and his breath hitched. She could almost imagine his mouth watering with how wet and raspy he sounded. He stepped closer. "Mistress, you need more. I can tell; let me finger your pussy, please? I'll get you off, and I'll make sure we're not caught," he said. He released her tits and picked her up, setting her down on his desk, next to his laptop.

She smiled, bit her lip then licked it and shoved his hands inside her shirt. "Who's in charge here?" she said, smirking.

"You, Mistress. Of course it's you." He stared at her breasts like a man starving for weeks on end. "So fucking soft, like silk," he moaned. "How do you make them so soft to the touch? It makes me insane for more."

A chill ran down her spine. "Squeeze them. Show me how much you love them. Really hard and make them swell from your touch," she purred. "I want to feel it tingling after you let go so when Craig's back in here, I'll remember what a good pet you were and how you pleased me at my word."

"Yes, Mistress," he said, then dug right in. His fingers flexed and squeezed, and she moaned with delight, tipping her head back. Then she remembered, she needed to keep an eye out for his boss so her head fell back into place.

The tighter he groped and fondled, the more she quieted.

"Please, Mistress, I need to hear you so I know if I'm doing it to your satisfaction," he said.

Was he serious? He remembered he was at work, right?

"Take them in your mouth, and hurry. I'm not gonna be loud, I need to keep on paying attention, listening and looking out for any one coming around here," she said, yanking her shirt open wider so he'd put that hot tongue on her flesh.

He flipped the cups down one at a time, then tongued her until she was flat on her back and pulling his hair, forcing him to be rougher.

"More," he said. "I want more. Please."

"Fuck me now!" she demanded. "I need your cock, but you're not to come."

Her hands tugged at her skirt, but it was trapped by the desk below her, and his weight on top of her.

"Is that an order as my Domme?" he teased.

"I swear to God, Emmett . . . Red ass tonight and you won't be allowed to come for a week!"

"Let me finger you first. If we have time after that, then I'll gladly get in that tight pussy," he said. "I want you to get yours, Mistress. You need to be satisfied." Dimples, hair in disarray, man's weight on top of her. She was going to have to kick the shit out of him for getting her to capitulate like this. She was never unprofessional, but for him? God, how could she resist?

"Okay, my gorgeous pet, but only this once. I'll take what you have to offer. Can you be fast?" She tilted her head up and gave him a look that meant she was serious about this—she wasn't messing around anymore.

His eyes glowed with a look of affection and frenzied need.

"Can you still manage to keep quiet and stop slowing me down?" He smirked.

_Swaaack!_

She slapped him on the side of his thigh. "Pet, you must not want to scene with me this weekend. Too bad since I have a really good one planned out for you."

Apparently, she slapped him so hard it had him unsteady, because he staggered off the desk with a look like he was high then he slipped that zipper back down.

Her pet couldn't resist that kind of teasing.

"One day I'm gonna go down on you," he said, climbing back on top of her. "You'll want me to. I can feel it, Mistress. I'm really good with my tongue."

"Okay, stop right there." She pushed on his chest. "I'm not into that, Emmett. I know a lot of Femdoms like it, and even demand it from their subs, but I'm sorry—it does nothing for me if I'm not in charge, and I—"

"Shhhhh," he whispered, kissing her into silence. "I didn't mean it like that. Of course you'd be in charge, Mistress. I wouldn't want it any other way. You could fuck my face all you wanted. We can work it all out." For now, she nodded and put his hands back on her; they had work to do.

He propped himself up on one elbow and peered out the window every now and then.

Then his other hand inched up her skirt—could it be any tighter? Why had she chosen this skirt again? She should've been thinking about easy access instead. Stupid move on her part.

She lifted her butt enough he could move the fabric up some, then he made that high pitched defeated whine when he ghosted over the garter snaps.

"Really? You had to do that today when I don't even have time to look at them? Why am I being punished like this, Mistress? God, I'm so fucking hard for you—unfair."

"Sweet pet, you'll see if before the night is over," she promised. "I'll take care of you. I always do."

He groaned like a wild creature, being sliced open.

His mouth found a nipple, his finger displaced the sopping G-string, and he toyed with her entrance until her eyelids were so heavy and her eyes screamed at him to fuck her now.

"Tell me, Mistress—clit or G-spot?"

Was he mocking her? His tone sure as hell sounded like he was having a little too much fun at her expense.

She slapped him again, but this time it was harder and on his face.

"Stay inside me. Three fingers. I'll squeeze them, and if you can figure out where my G-spot is, then go for it," she ordered. "Do this right, and you'll be heavily rewarded tonight. My pet will have so many orgasms, he'll sleep like a baby afterward."

"Yes, Mistress," he said, his voice breathy. He popped that nipple back in his mouth.

Smooth as liquid silk and warm as heated honey, her lubricant coated his fingers.

"Ever been fisted?" he growled.

"Jesus, Emmett!" she croaked. "Shut the fuck up and do what I told you!"

"It's fun. You might like it," he taunted.

Without asking, he pulled those three fingers out, bunched his fingers together, and gave her look like he wanted to pound her with his fist now.

Her eyes went wide, and she bucked her hips.

"Shhhhh . . . they might hear you and come running," he said, smiling. "And you wouldn't want that, would you, Mistress?"

_Damn you, your dimples, your hands built for sexual fantasies, and this shitty desk too._

She wanted to be fucked hard . . . but, but, but . . . what the hell? She could give in this once. He had been really good lately, taking everything she gave him.

"Fist me—do it." She nodded.

In the next breath, his fingers pushed in and his whole hand was inside. The wavelike motion building up within her the second he was in place, was so intense, she was biting back screams of filthy pleasure.

Her senses were on high alert; head jerking to the side to make sure they weren't going to get caught. She'd be damned if she let him stop now, but . . . Oh God . . . That felt unreal, the way his hand moved inside her just now.

She moaned and her back arched.

"I'm inside you, Mistress. And you're so wet, I can move my hand around wherever I want to," he said.

His fingers brushed over her G-spot, and liquid rolled down her thigh.

He did it again, and again, until she was gripping his shoulders and digging her nails in.

"Shit. I can't believe you're letting me do this, Rosie. I love touching you and your sexy body. I love you, and I love that you trust me this much. No one's ever gonna be as good for you as I am because no one will ever love you as much as I do." He bent closer and sucked on her right nipple, and he moaned. Fucking moaned like he was about to come himself.

His fingers surrounded her G-spot and rubbed furiously.

"Ahhhhhhhhh fuck meeee!" she yelped and thrashed back and forth as the biggest orgasm of her life overtook her.

His fist barely got started, pumping inside her, but, fuck it was tight, and so overstimulating, it seemed like it took almost no effort for him at all to get her there.

He pulled his hand out, smoothed her panties back in place and then proceeded to lick his fist, ignoring the fact she needed help up.

"You are so bad, you bratty sub," she said, laughing.

"Don't care. You taste really good." He made obscene sounds as he licked between his fingers.

"Oh, I'm sorry. I lead you to the wrong trailer," they heard Craig's booming voice from outside.

Emmett helped her up, righted her clothes for her, kissed her and then set her down in the chair.

She composed herself and he redid his zipper just in time.

"Bastard, getting me off like some Neanderthal cave-woman," she said with a devious grin. "You're so in trouble—you know that, right?"

He nodded and sighed with a dopey grin on his face.

Thank God for trailers and insightful foremen.

It was obvious Craig was stalling.

"Oh, yes, you're right—this is the one," Craig said louder than he needed to.

She wished she could thank him somehow for looking out for them and giving them some time alone.

Fuck, she'd needed that. And now she was all tingly, light and happy. Much better.

There was a light rap at the door as a warning, and by the time it opened, Rose was crisp and presentable again. Emmett was, too. Well, sort of—he had his hand up by his nose, inhaling deeply, looking stoned out of his mind. He tried to make it look natural, but that telling grin said he was guilty.

That and the smell of arousal in the air.

She stood up and faced the clients. "Hi, I'm Rose Hale, I'm the lawyer handling the—"

"We know who you are, and we're not impressed," the old woman said. "Take a seat Max." She pointed at what Rose presumed was the woman's son and then motioned to the chair Rose was sitting in.

Rose moved out of the way with grace and ease, took a place at Emmett's side, and hid how she pinched his thigh behind her skirt.

He smiled and introduced himself to a Mrs. Harrington and her son, Max.

The old woman bleated her demands, her displeasure at the whole stinky operation and when she was exhausted and out of breath, Emmett stepped forward.

"I assure you, this land will benefit your family. The company is willing to compensate you generously," he said with those dimples making a shining appearance. "And might I say, a family as powerful as yours and as good-looking, will make quite an impression on the public. I'm sure your stock in Westing Communications will go up quite a bit. Think of it as an act of goodwill and charity."

"Hmmm . . ." The old lady appeared to be pondering it while she scrutinized him, looking him over from head to toe.

Then he sweetened the pruned up bag further by taking her hand in his and kissing the back of it.

Rose smirked. God, he was good. His flirting finally had a reason to make Rose glad it existed.

Rose's eyes went wide when he went further by kissing the old bitch's cheek, then smoothed it away with the pad of his thumb. He hunched over her, looked her straight in the eye with that boyish charm blazing. "Please, we all want to get along here, and you're such a giving, tenderhearted soul; I can see it in your eyes. You can't hide it from me." He cocked his head at the woman.

Prunes blushed? This one did. She blushed furiously, and then waved him off.

"Son, sign the papers, but you make sure they up the amount by two percent. And I want free advertising, stating we did this of our own accord without any coercion from you people." The prune grabbed a pen out of her bag, threw it to her raisin son, and he signed so fast he probably got carpal tunnels in the process.

Rose smiled and held back that sigh of relief threatening to burst free.

When Emmett returned to her side, she stroked his ass in a way no one could see, and she did it over and over like the favored pet he was. His leg shook a little.

His cock was twitching like mad. She could feel the vibration of it.

Did he do all this for her? He knew how hard she'd worked and prepped all of this. It was her time and energy in talking to these people, getting things ready and making a deal they had to accept that got them to this point. But she was at a loss on how to handle this miserly, bitter old hag.

He beamed at her, and tears misted her eyes. _Again_.

He _did_. It was for her.

Fuck—she loved him more than ever—her beautiful, sterling pet. He was _hers_!

Her insides burst with warmth and tenderness. She stroked his ass even more, hidden from all to see.

It was going to be near impossible to keep her hands off him tonight. Already she was struggling from peppering him with kisses and showering him with adoring praise.

This man was a rare gem—superior to all men she'd ever met. Everything about him was appealing to her. Even that smart-ass mouth of his. She was going to fill it this weekend with her breasts, and maybe even her pussy since he wanted it. For him—she'd try.

"This man is the only one here that knows what he's doing," the prune said, referring to Emmett, before exiting.

"Yes, he does," Rose agreed, removing her hands off him. It was difficult to let go, but she did it and then escorted them out.

Emmett stayed behind. She hadn't asked him to join them, and he was so obedient, so radiant in the moment, she knew he needed a minute to soak it all in.

She kept looking back at him, beaming.

Fuck, he was a beautiful, beautiful man with a magnificent soul.

She shook hands, said goodbye to the clients and Craig took off, getting back to work on the site.

Rose almost levitated as she glided back inside Emmett's trailer.

"You've changed. Being a sub's changed you," she said after she shut the door.

"It has, Mistress. May I tell you how I feel?" He blinked and his electric blue eyes sparkled at her.

"Please," she said and took a seat at his desk.

"Because of you—and all you've taught me already—I'm more sensitive to the needs of women around me. I think about what my Mistress would want—what would please her, and it translates over to being more courteous and thoughtful to the women around me. It was obvious that woman's been mistreated for a big portion of her life. She wanted to be heard, so I tried to listen and make her feel special."

Rose smiled and ran her hands over his desk. It smelled like him, and she loved touching something he had his hands on daily.

"Go on," she said.

"Well, I care now about other people's perceptions of me. I realize I've been careless in the past. In fulfilling your needs and other women in small ways, I'm fulfilling my own. It's liberating, and I have you to thank for it." He put his hands in his pockets and rocked on his heels for a second, looking a little sheepish and embarrassed.

"Could you be any more adorable and make me love you any more than I already do? God, Emmett. You have to move in with me. I have to have you at my fingertips as much as possible. Do you know what you just did for me? This contract is huge. It's going to solidify and establish my career in a way you can't possibly understand," she breathed. "Get over here now."

She pointed at the floor next to her then swiveled the chair in his direction.

He kneeled between her legs and looked up at her with worship evident in his every feature.

She petted his head. "So beautiful, so strong, and all mine. I love you, pet."

"And I love you, Mistress Rosie-cat, and yes, I'll move in with you. Try and stop me." He leaned into her touch.

She pulled him up into her arms and kissed him with so much force, he lunged at her, then suddenly, he went lax.

She chuckled. "So quick to learn."

"All for you—for your unending pleasure," he cooed.

Her legs wrapped around him.

"Those are the sweetest words I've ever heard." She sighed.

"'Fist me,' are the sweetest words I've ever heard," she laughed and he continued, "until you said you love me and to move in. That definitely will be playing in a loop in my head for a long time."

"Come here." She pulled his head into her chest, hugged him tight.

Her heart sped out of control, so she kept him pressed tight into her breasts to contain it.

She sighed once more and then held her breath. There was a ruckus going on outside.

"I have to!" Craig shouted.

She released Emmett and her veins went cold when she heard Craig racing up the steps.

"It's gonna be all right," Emmett told her and gave her a worried look.

She swallowed. The door swung open.

"You're fired, Emmett. I'm gonna have to report this. What you two just did before the clients entered your trailer is on surveillance, and the corporation's already seen it. Couldn't you have waited 'til after work? Taken a long lunch or something after they left? I tried to stall and help you out, but this . . ." Craig trailed off, his voice disheartened. "There's nothing I can do. I'm really sorry. They're on their way to escort you off the premises."

"What about Rose? Is she still going to oversee this account?" Emmett's face drained of color.

"I have no control over this, but I doubt they'll kick her off now that she got them to sign those damned papers." Craig frowned and turned to her. "Congratulations."

"Emmett's the one that got this job done. Can't we fight this?" Her jaw tightened.

"You're the lawyer—you tell me," Craig said, shrugging.

"I'll fight this," Rose told Emmett.

"No, don't. It's fine. I'll be fine." He hugged her and told Craig he'd be right back to pack up his belongings.

"Don't do this, pet!"

"I don't need you in this mess. I knew they'd probably fire me for this, but I didn't care. I have money coming from the club, and I've been saving up for years. Besides, I've got a sugar-mama now. I'm moving in, remember?" He grinned. "Less expenses."

She stroked his cheek. "I want to help. It's my fault this happened."

"And I couldn't be happier. Now, Mistress, you can smack me for this if you want, but I want you to leave. I'm about to make a man's version of the walk of shame as they escort my ass out of here. I don't want you to see it, so please leave before that happens."

"Call me as soon as you get home," she said.

"I'll send a text, Mistress. Okay?"

"'Kay." A tear strolled down her cheek. "Love you so much. You know that, right?"

"I do." He smiled as his eyes filled with tears.

"I really don't want to leave you, and this is killing me to not fight this for you." She frowned.

"I know. But I don't want you to. Please go." He squared his shoulders and took a deep breath like he was gathering courage for what he was about to face.

She smiled through her own tears, waved and left.

At the last minute, from the parking lot, she turned to watch him stroll back to his trailer, his ex-trailer, and she heard him say a minute later with a booming laugh, "I don't give a fuck. I have another job where I'm invaluable."

She gasped then chuckled, got in her car and drove off.

He'd helped her, and she'd do the same. She'd find a way to make the club more profitable for him so he never felt deprived of the income he'd just lost.

She'd make sure he was well taken care of. He meant that much to her.

**A/N:**

**Thank you to my beta, Shenaniwhatagans, and to my pre-readers. They're truly amazing and teach me so much about life in general. You can't put a price on that—or at least I can't. ;D Plus, I do this for free, so what money could I give? Hee hee!**

**Three more chapters then it's complete. I keep hoping to post this thing more consistently since I'm done writing it, but life just keeps getting in the way. *sighs***

**Chanse**


	19. Chapter 19

**Chapter 19**

Rose was a mess, waiting for her pet to call her. Or did he say he'd text?

She was bouncing around, unable to focus on a damn thing.

Was he okay?

Did he need her?

She picked up her phone and started dialing him when Carl broke into her office, his hair mussed up and his eyes wild.

"What the hell happened?" he shrieked.

"I can explain." She set her phone down and her hands were up in the air in a surrender fashion.

"You got that old woman to sign the contracts? How did you do that? We've had more than a dozen different lawyers work with her, and always it's the same—she tells them to get out of her face, throws a tantrum, breaks their pen or some silly nonsense, and then she's even worse to work with the next time around. I can't believe you did this!"

"Well, I did have some help. I didn't do it all on my own, actually the lead engineer on-site there was instrumental in it and—"

"C'mere!" He picked her up out of her chair and twirled her around, pretending to dance with her.

"Carl!"

"Okay, okay, I just . . . God, I can't believe you did it!"

"You didn't have faith in me?" She blinked and smiled.

"Of course I did, but I gave you this impossible task because I knew it wouldn't break you like it did the others. The heads of the company have been looking at the file all afternoon, and they're also looking at your resume. You were trying for partner, right?"

She nodded and her mouth went dry. Swallowing was tantamount to trying to breathe in outer space. It wasn't happening.

The process was usually really slow and painful.

"I think you've got it; good for you! This contract is huge—so massive, it'll keep us all employed for a good long time. Wow!"

He bounced out of the room quicker than he rammed his way in.

What the fuck just happened?

She walked in a daze over to the door and was about to shut it, when suddenly an idea struck her.

Rose's feet raced after Carl and she grabbed him by the arm.

"Hey, is it okay if I go home and celebrate? You know—take the rest of the day off?" She smirked.

"You can throw a damn parade down Main Street for all I care, sweetie, after what you just did? We'll probably all have to bow down to you now when you walk through the halls."

She laughed. "Okay, let's not get carried away."

"I'm gettin' carried away because our bonuses will be real fat this year thanks to you." He shook her hand and cleared his throat. "It's an honor having you in our ranks. You'll outrank me soon enough, and to tell the truth—it's about goddamn time. You're the most talented lawyer here."

Her eyes misted. "Stop it—my mascara, you big jerk." She giggled and had to look down for a second.

"I mean it. Yes, go home. I demand you take the rest of the day off."

She laughed once more since there were only three hours left before she would've been done with the work day anyway.

God, her insides lit up like crazy. Emmett was probably home already.

_Please, let him be at my place._

She raced back to her office, shut everything down, grabbed her phone and took off out the door before anyone else congratulated her like Carl did. She'd need to be better prepared for it next time so she didn't come off as such a gushy woman.

On her way home she stopped at two stores to get a few things for her favorite man in the whole world.

He'd been through hell today, and for her—it was an amazing advancement for her career. The injustice of it stung hard. She wanted to celebrate, but how could she when he was probably in agony?

Well, maybe not in agony. He never seemed to get down unless she told him to kneel.

She snickered.

God, he was so hot on his knees, looking up at her like he was begging for her to do anything at all as long as she would touch him.

Fuck—this car was too slow.

The tires squealed as she cornered onto her street, and when she finally got into her garage, her heart rate spiked, making her lose her breath.

She grabbed the two bags, headed inside and called out, "Emmett. Are you here?"

"Mistress, you're home?"

"Home . . ." Yes, she was. _Their_ home.

She slipped her shoes off, dropped her bags and raced straight toward him.

He was naked, and looked like he'd been eating a bowl of her ice cream.

She chuckled. "God, I missed you."

"But we just fucked not that long ago, Mistress." His tongue swiped across his bottom lip in an obscene way and then he wore a rakish smile.

She pinched his ass. "Naked. I love it. And no, I did not forget what we did that. Are you okay? I mean, you got fired . . . Or did they . . . Did they change their mind when you explained?"

"I didn't explain anything, Rosie. It's none of their goddamn business what our relationship is. I would've quit even if they hadn't fired me. I want to be here for you. Anytime you need something, I need to be available. My job was getting in the way, and I can survive without that income," he said, his hands now tucked behind his back.

She let go of him. "You would've quit for me without me even asking?" Her voice broke and her throat constricted. Damn, those misters on her eyes were out of control today. Her heart flooded with so much emotion, she had to reach out and grab his shoulders so it wouldn't take her down. "You really do love me, don't you?"

"I love you more than a man has any right to. It's not fair for one person to be this happy, and it's all because of you."

"Fucking hell, Emmett. You're moving in tonight. You're damn right you don't need that job because of that contract today you ensured I landed, I may be making partner very soon."

"Congratulations, Mistress!" His hands flew out, he cupped her head and leaned in for a kiss. He smirked for a second, realized he was breaking rules by touching her without permission but he did it anyway.

"I love you, pet. So much," she sighed.

"That's good because I'm not going anywhere. I already boxed up a bunch of my stuff at my place right after I went home. They're out in my car. Can I go get them, Mistress?"

"No. I need to fuck your face right now," she said, pointing at the floor.

"Fuck . . . I would've quit my job weeks ago if I knew I'd get this in return," he growled, sliding down to his knees.

"First, you better figure out how you're going to undress me with nothing but your teeth," she said, eyes glinting.

"Mistress, you brought gifts," he said, motioning with his head over to the side.

"Well, you've earned them. But they're for tonight. I'm going to do our scene tonight rather than this weekend. Though, I did get you something you might not want." She left him on his knees, his eyes following after her, and she pulled out a large bouquet of flowers for him.

She walked back over, extended them out to him.

"Mistress, would I be able to play with these on your body a little? Would your pet be able to play with you a little and try to please you?"

She nodded, giggled and ran her hands through his hair. "You've earned as much touching as you like until we scene tonight," she said, her voice smoother than it had ever been. It was soft, it was silk, it was all for him—this man that made her crazy in love.

He took the flowers, set them aside, crawled around her backside and began pulling on her zipper with his teeth.

She groaned as his teeth nipped at the hem and he managed to drag her very tight skirt off.

A few times he accidentally bit her, and she'd suck in some air and wobbled a little, then leaned into him for support.

"Is my Mistress getting lightheaded?" he teased.

"I'm not lightheaded—I'm ready to fuck your face," she said, patting his head. "Up. Rip the buttons off my blouse with your teeth, and when you're done with that, I want you to pull my bra straps down with your tongue and lips only."

He grinned and his dimples pitted. "Anything my Mistress wants."

"Including a wedding?"

His breath stopped mid-exhale. "Wh-what are you saying? You want to get married?"

She nodded then reached into her bra. "Emmett—I love you more than you can possibly know. I want to offer you my collar and this ring. I have to know you're mine and no one else can have you."

"Fuck! Rosie! God, yes!" He jumped and covered his mouth for a second. "Stay here, please, Mistress! I need to get something."

She watched him in wry amusement as he raced around the house, throwing his clothes back on and then he headed out the door, with such manic energy he made the Tasmanian Devil look like he moved in slow motion.

"Shit. I like him naked," she said to herself, curling the ring onto her thumb. She hoped it would fit him.

When he came back inside, his cheeks were red, his smile bigger than she'd ever seen it, and he was chuckling.

"Scared the neighbor," he said.

"I'm sure you did," she said, pointing at his very obvious erection.

He laughed, shook his head and gave her a mock glare. "They couldn't see that. I was cursing in my car as I looked for this." He ran over to her, dropped down to his knee and looked up at her with large, pleading eyes. "I know you already said it first, but I was hoping to do it the traditional route."

She put a hand over her heart. Who did that, honestly? What a prissy thing to do. She never had before, but she could barely contain her exploding heart. "You don't have to ask, since you know I already want to, but I'll allow it only if you get naked first."

He put the ring in his mouth. She couldn't see it, and as she tried to squint and get a better look at it, he turned around.

_Smaaack!_

_Squeeeeze!_

She grabbed his ass, and licked up the back of his neck.

"Hiding it from me?"

He nodded and chuckled deep in the back of his throat.

His clothes were flying off him, even though he had to work around her manhandling him.

"So sexy, so masculine, and nothing but hard slabs of muscle and flesh, but that's not why I can't live without you," she whispered at the edge of his ear. She fingered the hair at the nape of his neck. He sighed and goose bumps erupted down the back of his neck.

She smiled.

He pulled the ring out of his mouth, put it in his fist and then turned around slowly.

Even though he towered over her, she'd never felt more in control than she did right then.

"What does, Mistress—please tell me . . ." His voice cracked.

"There's never been a man that sets me on fire the way you do, and it's not just because you let me take control. It's this—the way you care about how I feel about you, about my job, and how I feel about myself. I've never been this strong, and it's because you look at me like I'm a goddess."

"You are, Mistress Rosie. You're the definition of what a woman is supposed to be."

She chuckled and cupped his chiseled jaw. "Most of the world would disagree with you."

"That's because they can't see the softness that comes from your strength. You're all woman when you tell me what you need. How many women can say what they want and not cower away after doing it? I know it's difficult for even you to do it, and that makes me cherish it and love you even more."

"God, Emmett—how did I ever live without you?"

"I don't know. But let's never find that out. Can I please do this now?"

"You may." She pointed for him to get back into position.

He knelt immediately, bent his head down for a second, and she swore he muttered some sort of prayer. Her eyes went wide and when he looked up, tears were streaking down his cheeks.

"Rosalie Hale—Mistress of my dreams—I'd love to wear your collar, and in exchange I'd like to offer you this ring as a sign of my undying fidelity and devotion to you. Will you please marry me?"

"Can you stop making me cry?" she said, laughing through tears sliding down her cheeks to match his.

"Nope. Not tonight."

"Tomorrow maybe?"

He beamed at her. "If you say the word, then it'll happen."

"Get your tongue ready, pet—I'm gonna fuck your face the second that ring's on me."

He slipped it on her finger and then clasped his hands behind his back.

"Touch me—and don't stop until I come all over your tongue," she said and lowered herself down to him.

He reached out, his hands shaking. "God, I can't believe I'm allowed to do this."

"Put your ring on, Emmett, and then you can thank me."

She'd set it aside when he'd run around like a maniac.

He reached over to the coffee table, put it on and smiled hard then cried some more.

"It's perfect. It fits."

"Mine does, too," she echoed his sentiments.

He kissed his ring, kissed hers then kissed his way down her body.

She let him do what he wanted for a while. He dragged each flower up and down her body, and even covered one of the rose's tips with her juices and then he licked it off the bud.

It was erotic, so sensual, she finally had to push him down to the ground, straddled his shoulders and placed her pussy over his mouth.

"Pet—grab my hips and squeeze if I'm suffocating you because I plan to be here for a long time, and I'm not going to be soft about it," she warned.

He nodded, sucked his wet lips in for a second and then gripped her thighs as she settled down over his mouth.

She moaned on contact, and couldn't believe how eager he was to do this for her.

It never really appealed to her before. Oral didn't do much for her.

But with the lip-smacking sounds he was making between her thighs, the way he was squirming and moaning, she knew it wasn't going to take as long as she'd anticipated before she came.

"I'm gonna make tonight so special for you, pet. You'll love it."

"Mmm . . ." His fingers dug into her legs.

She ground harder into his mouth.

His teeth nipped at her clit, and she gasped. "Naughty, pet! That's a delicate place. Be nice."

He chuckled, sucked the tip of it into his mouth then probed her slit with his tongue.

"That's it—such a good boy. My pet knows what I like. He knows I get real wet when he makes those dirty sounds."

He growled and then his fingers played at her crack, making their way to her asshole.

"My pet wants to get dirty, huh?"

He nodded and kept lapping at her, his fingers still roaming, and about to probe.

"I think my pet's hinting he wants me to play with his anus. Is that what he wants? Does he want me to strap on, and fuck his ass hard while I jack him off?"

"Gaaawd!" he groaned.

"Finish me off first, and I'll give you anything you want," she said.

His fingers moved away from her ass, found her clit and he circled it as his tongue traced lines along the edge of her inner lips and her clit.

"Oh, such a good boy, such a smart tongue—making me want to come already. If I come hard, gush all over your tongue, will you thank me? Will you tell me my come means more to you than your job you gave up?"

A loud, dying raspy sound drifted out of him, and his entire body tensed then relaxed.

"Wanna come?"

"Mmhmm . . ."

"Suck me harder. Lick me and make me so wet I slip over your face."

She dug her hips in, rocked up and down his face.

The friction from the little bit of whiskers on his chin were getting her there along with all the toe curling things he was doing.

"So close . . . Pet, you're about to get me off."

He whimpered and pushed the hood up on her clit then flicked over and over again at the pink, swollen bundle of nerves that were now exposed.

"Shiiit . . . That's good. Your training has made you an expert—I'm gonna do that for you, too. I'm gonna go train as a sub so I can . . . Ohhhhh God!"

His fingers were inside her, hitting her G-spot, and he was sucking on her inner thigh.

"I'll do whatever it takes to be the best Mistress for you—I want that for you. I love you."

He bit into her thigh, and suddenly, a rush ran up that spot to her pussy, it contracted violently, and she rasped low and gritty, "I'm coming . . . Oh, God, right there . . . You've done it—made me come with your mouth."

Right as her orgasm was about to hit her, he flipped her over, and his cock was inside her.

"Come on me—come on my dick, please, Mistress . . . Don't stop."

She grabbed the back of his head, slammed his mouth down on hers, sucked in his tongue and bit back a scream when he suddenly jerked and thrashed above her.

She writhed beneath him, and for the first time ever, she reveled in having an orgasm with a man on top of her.

It felt right—it felt special.

It was exactly what she needed to even out today's events and make her feel like she gave her pet exactly what he needed.

"Ooohhhh . . . I can't breathe—best day of my life. You're the reason . . ." he trailed off.

"The reason?"

"The reason I finally feel like a man."

She chuckled and he leaned over slid his forehead across hers and kissed her softly.

"Do you know how backwards we are?" she asked.

"I do. And I don't fucking care."

"I don't either."

Before they could talk about tonight's scene, he rolled off her, pulled her into his side, and they stroked each other's bodies until they both fell asleep on the carpet, their clothes strewn around them like wildflowers in a meadow.

.

.

.

"We're on our way," Edward said.

"Okay, stay on the south end. I'll let you in, and Jasper will meet us in the center," Rose told him and then ended the call.

Jasper and Alice were so incredible the way they pulled this all together for her.

He had told Emmett he wanted to throw him an impromptu Bachelor party, teasing Emmett that he'd probably elope so he could marry his Mistress before she changed her mind.

Rose rushed around once Jasper exchanged one very large, very pouting pet for a very ecstatic Alice.

Emmett didn't want to leave his Mistress, and she didn't want to be parted either, but she absolutely had to give him this. There was no way she was going to let this go.

She'd lied and told him they'd do their scene tomorrow night instead.

God, love him, he was so gullible and believed every little thing she said.

Not that she'd ever be deceitful in a mean way—but for a surprise like this, yeah, she'd lie a little. It'd be worth it to see how fucking high he'd get off it.

Jesus, she pulled some serious strings to make this happen tonight.

"You got the bags?" she asked Alice in the backseat.

"Yep."

"You know what they need to put on?"

"Relax, Rose. We know where to be, what to say, how to dress, how to breathe. It's gonna be fine."

"You don't have to really watch if you don't want to," she told her friend.

Was Alice cringing back there, thinking about watching Rose fuck her pet?

"I know. And I probably won't—not with Jasper next to me. I can't ever seem to stop watching him. He makes me open my eyes wide and watch him while I come. It's amazing. At first I hated that. It was really difficult for me, but now I get a rush from it. He does the same thing for me. He stares at me as he comes and shudders. It blows me away and gives me chills every time."

"Good to know . . . I don't think about what he's looking at as long as he's listening to me and doing what I say. I guess I'm more auditory than visual. Just the sound of him before he comes undone is what makes me go insane. God, I can come so fast after hearing him like that."

"They're all we'll ever want, aren't they?" Alice's voice was breathy.

"Yeah, they are. I can't believe we all found who we were looking for simply by going to that interview night for the club."

"And it only took an hour," Alice observed.

"That's true."

They pulled up on site, Rose swiped the borrowed badge on the panel and the gates opened wide.

A moment later, Edward's car pulled up behind them and he came through as well.

Her heart constricted. Where was Jasper?

The gate might close before he got through.

"Where the fuck are they?"

Alice was tapping away at her phone. "I'm texting him right now. He said he's had to make sure Emmett kept his blindfold on, but he's gonna be here in a few seconds."

Just as she'd said, he cornered and raced through the opening before the gates closed. He slowed down and pulled over so Rose could take the lead.

The other two cars went in a different direction.

She could barely breathe she was so freaking excited.

"I've been thinking this one up for weeks," Rose breathed.

"Really? Wow, he's so blessed you're doing this for him."

"I'm the lucky one. He lets me fly and be free. He trusts me to take care of him and bring his fantasies to life. It's rare he dislikes something I do. I swear, Alice . . . I could do this type of thing everyday if I had time."

"How funny . . . Jasper said the same thing to me the other day after he found me in the bathroom at a restaurant. He was worried I was—well, you know. He felt silly for distrusting me, so he pulled together a scene real quick in the parking lot to reward me. I don't know how he did it, but he found a motorcycle, draped me over it and fucked me from behind while he had my wrists bound behind me with my stockings. It was hard not to scream, so he pushed my panties into my mouth to keep me quiet. It kind of worked. He said I still screamed, but I don't remember that. I only remember my come sliding down my leg and streaking down the side of the motorcycle. Jasper had me wipe it off with my hair the second my orgasm was over."

"My Lord . . . He's good at improvising, isn't he?"

"You wouldn't believe the speed and his reflexes. Holy shit. He fingered me in a grocery store once when I tried to escape to the restroom. I was panicking. He took me over to a bench by the pharmacy, sat me on his lap and fingered me, forced me to orgasm three times to teach me a lesson. I guess that's not really the same, since it was supposed to be a correction, but I loved that he did that for me."

The car was parked now.

Rose turned around. "Hey, Alice—I can never thank you enough for this. I owe ya, and Jasper, too."

"You don't owe us a thing. We're happy to help."

"Well, I . . . Yeah, okay." Rose's jaw clicked closed.

Alice leaned forward hugged her over the seat and grabbed her bag she needed.

Rose took the other and they parted ways.

Even in the dark, she knew exactly where she was going.

She used her phone as a flashlight to make sure she didn't trip and fall.

The boots made it easy to walk fast.

As she kept a smooth pace, she pulled her hardhat out of the bag she was carrying.

She'd placed a head flashlight to it and flicked it on then put her phone in the bag since she no longer needed the light it provided.

"Can I take this stupid thing off now?" Emmett grumbled, not too far ahead of her.

She heard Jasper chuckle. "Not yet."

Rose stepped forth as quietly as possible, but Emmett was immediately alerted to her presence.

Probably smelled how aroused she was.

"Mistress . . . ?" Emmett said in a damn near orgasmic moan.

"Yes, pet, I'm here for you."

She motioned for Jasper to find Alice off to the right about twenty feet away.

"Where are we?" Emmett asked with his blindfold secured in place.

"In a safe place." She circled around him, dragging her index finger over his chest, his shoulders and back. "A place where I can devour you. A place you've been dying to have me."

He gasped. "Are you serious, Mistress?"

"Oh, I am, but you might be thinking you get to decide how this is done. I know it's your fantasy, but I'll show you how it's supposed to go. Now . . ." She stroked his forming erection through his jeans. "Drop. You're going to crawl."

"Blind?"

"Is there a reason you're questioning me?"

"N-no, Mistress. I'll do whatever you think is best." He stretched his arms out, she took his hands and lowered him down to the dirt. Before he bent over onto all fours, she pulled out his work gloves and put them on him, followed by velcro cuffs on his wrists.

He was panting already. "God, Rosie, this is amazing. I can't believe you're doing this for me."

"For me. It's all about what _I_ need," she reminded.

"And you need _me_, Mistress. I know you do," he breathed.

"No more talk, or I'll gag you, and I brought duct tape, pet." She placed a collar around his neck and hooked a leash to the D ring.

His chest was rising and falling rapidly, his breaths rushing out of him as his lips parted.

"Follow," she said, tugging on the leash.

"Anywhere," he replied, out of breath.

Slowly, she strung him along, making sure there was nothing dangerous in his path.

It was only a few feet away, but she took a leisurely pace so he could burn with anticipation, and she could enjoy every morsel of his excitement.

"Up, my beautiful man," she said, stroking her fingers through his hair once he was where she needed him to be.

He kept his head bent down, even though he was still blindfolded. "Yes, Mistress." His tone was so respectful, so docile, it had her gripping the leash hard, but she was careful not to pull on it. Her pussy throbbed for him.

"Mistress, would you describe to me what you're wearing?" he whispered, his voice breaking a little. "Please?"

"Why don't you tell me what you imagine I wore for you as I get you situated? Hmm . . . ?" She guided him up against the metal scaffolding.

His breath caught several times, and when she rubbed the instep of her work boot on his jeans, he grunted.

"Oh, God . . . Yes, Mistress . . . Yessss." His hands bunched and flexed. "Please . . . I love you, and I love this scene already."

"Such a good pet. In need of reward." She stretched one arm out to the side, but not too far out in case she had to break him free in a hurry. The velcro cuffs made a loud startling noise, making him jump, but then he grinned. She secured both his wrists, and then she unbuttoned his shirt with painstaking slow movements. Her breath fanned out across his chest. "What do you think I'm wearing? Hmm . . . ? I wanna hear it."

"Pencil skirt—black. White silk blouse, tight enough that if you lean over, it puckers between the buttons and I can see a hint of your luscious breasts. White lacy bra and matching thong, with accompanying garter belt, and oh fuck . . . Tell me, Mistress . . . You're wearing my boots? And _my_ hardhat?"

"Very good, only I wore my own hat. Yours doesn't fit. The boots are a bit large as well, but for _you_, I wore them." She licked from the hollow of his throat, straight up his Adam's apple and over to his dimple in his cheek. Her breasts rubbed into his chest and he bit his bottom lip, his face scrunching up. "How have you imagined taking me on your work site? Me wrapping my legs around the metal bars and fucking you as I bounce up and down on your shaft? Or maybe you imagined me standing in front of you, hiking up my skirt from behind and leaning over as you take me from behind?"

He exhaled in slow, measured waves. "Christ . . . Rosie . . . I don't . . . Whatever Mistress wants. Anything you like."

"What about fucking me in the ass? We've never done that before, and my pet has been so delicious lately—helping me land that monstrous account, and his monstrous cock should be praised for it. Maybe I'll give you head first, and then I'll milk your prostate and give you any hole you want."

"May I taste you, Mistress? Please?" he whimpered, his head lolling to the right.

She reached up under her skirt, slipped her finger in the side of her thong and slicked up her finger then painted his philtrum and top lip with it so he could smell and taste it.

"Does that help you decide?" She leaned in, wet his lobe and nipped at the sensitive spot beneath his ear. "If not, I'm more than happy to take the decision from you."

"Oh, fuck, Rosie . . . Just take my cock out and handle it, please? Mistress, I . . . You have no idea how much I want you right now."

"I think I'm getting the idea," she said, unzipping him at a mind-numbing sluggish pace.

She raised her hand in the air, her signal to her helpers, and they began catcalling exactly the way heinous, crude construction workers would.

Emmett grinned and thrust his hips up.

"Who's watching, Mistress?"

"That's for me to know, but you can decide exactly how much skin on your Mistress they see," she cooed and stroked his cock before releasing it.

"What about me? Do I decide how much of _me_ they see?"

She tipped her head back and chuckled. "No, you don't because I know you don't give a fuck if everyone and anyone sees your dick. You're proud of this piece of equipment, and I don't blame you." She pushed the fly open wider, pushed his jeans down to the bottom of his hips and let him hang out freely.

She maneuvered her way down to her knees, pulled out one of her goodies from her bag and then she lubricated it up with her tongue.

Emmett was bent over as far as he could go as if to try and see what she was doing.

Once it was slick enough, she placed the metal cockring on him and moved it to the base.

The coolness of the metal made his dick jerk.

"Cold?"

He nodded and whimpered once more.

"I can fix that," she said and then she sucked his cock into her mouth and pulled him deep.

He pulled at his cuffs, but not hard enough to break free.

There was more hooting and hollering behind them, and it made him moan louder.

She licked the cockring, sucked at the base of his shaft and then grabbed his ass.

The second she gripped his cheeks, he grunted and pre-come dribbled out.

"For _me_ . . ." She flattened her tongue and absorbed him onto it.

"I know what I want, Mistress. May I tell you?" he gritted.

"You may," she said, looking at his agonized face, twisting into a pleasured grimace. She pumped him in her fist. "Tell me exactly what you want, in detail."

"I want to fuck you through the scaffolding."

Her lips twitched up into a slanted grin. "How naughty of you—a construction scene turned into a pseudo prison scene with bars as a barrier?"

"Y-y-yesssss," he breathed, "I'm naughty, Mistress—soooo bad for you."

She pinched his sack, he gasped and she raised herself up to standing, using his thighs for leverage.

"Will you allow it, Mistress?" he said, choking on his words.

"I'll do whatever you like, pet, as long as you scream for me when you come—promise me you will, and I'll make sure you have the orgasm of a lifetime," she said.

He nodded and swallowed hard.

"Fabulous." She leaned over, grabbed the bag, pulled out a plug and the lube. After she had it greased up, she moved behind him, and through the framework, she played with his asshole, smothering his back with her breasts.

"You smell so good, Emmett. Have I ever told you this is what a man should smell like? A man that turns me on so much, I have to keep my hands busy so I'm not touching my pussy all the time, getting myself off. A touch of clean citrus scent and musk with a hint of animalistic woodsiness. Add the aroma of sex on top of it, and I'm high off you." She inhaled deeply at the back of his neck. In the next breath, she wiggled the plug into his anus.

His head hung forward and his breathing increased.

She shined the light from her helmet on his ass, and his cheeks were clenched tight. "Is it too big?"

"It's perfect," he responded. "I just need a moment to absorb what we're doing . . ."

"Okay, I'll give you a breather while I prepare for the next part. How about I free your wrists and turn you around so I can take you through the bars?"

"Mmhmm," he said, his mouth in a tight line, his jaw clamped shut.

"Listen to me . . . Breathe . . . Deep, slow breaths." She stroked his chest and leaned into him. "I know it's a lot to take in, but I'm here. I'm listening to you and watching out for you. I know what you need, and I want to give this to you. Can you keep going if I give you a minute?"

"Mmm . . ." He whimpered a tense moan.

"Emmett . . . If you don't give me a deep breath, mouth opened, I'll end this right now . . ."

His bottom jaw fell open and he exhaled with a shaky shrill sound.

She waved for Edward and Jasper.

They came forward quickly and silently.

She pointed for them to leave the premises completely. They didn't need an audience anymore.

They nodded and took off before she could change her mind.

"Em, it's just you and me. They're gone. What do you need?"

"You, Mistress. Just you. Kiss me," he said, swallowing.

She cupped under his chin, giving him support and with as much tenderness as she could muster, she pressed her lips into his.

"Mmmmnnnnnuuugh," he groaned, and then tears slipped out from under his blindfold.

She removed it.

"Make me come, pet. Look at me as I take your cock inside me," she said.

His eyes opened, and though the light was low, they were bright and filled with so much emotion, she got choked up. "Beautiful—stunning man. I love you."

"I love you, too."

She got him turned around, pulled his hands through the metal scaffolding, and instead of cuffing him to the bars, she cuffed his wrists together, behind her waist.

"We're gonna take it slow," she told him. She climbed up the bars, feeling akin to a monkey in heat, and wrapped her legs around the frame. "Fuck me, pet. Fuck me the way you want to, and if I want something different, I'll tell you."

"Gaaaawd, Rosie, I . . . You're doing this for me . . . And I . . . I want to . . . Fuuuuck!" He pushed his hips forward, and though he'd never get in there very deep with bars creating a gap between them, it still felt wonderful.

"Yes, my sexy pet, just like a fucking criminal, make me come," she cooed.

He gripped her hard behind her back, and there was nothing slow or polite about the way he fucked her. The way he made these maddening throaty, strangled sounds and the way he rattled the cage around her, had her mewling.

"How bad do you want me to gush on your cock? Bad enough you'll let me do this?" She pulled her ass back so he couldn't reach her with his dick.

"Please . . . _No_! Nooooo, Mistress!" He tried to use his hands to bring her back, but her legs were strong enough and he was at an awkward angle, he couldn't do anything about it.

She was prepared. With a wicked glint in her eyes, she pulled another trick out of her sleeve, only this one was in her bra.

She took out a stretchy cockring with a vibrating bullet, and put it on above the metal cockring in place. Perfect. This one should be able to reach her clit since it needed to be further up his shaft since the bars kept some space between them.

She turned it on and then moved her cunt back into reach.

"Oh, thank God." He slammed into her as far as he could go, and the vibrator grazed the tip of her clit.

"It won't take me long . . . I'm so wet for you—I'm ready to come." She pursed her lips through the bars.

He growled and nipped at her lips, clawed at her lower back and his throat bobbed. Any second, he was going to lose it.

"They can still see us, pet. I didn't tell them to go. They're watching you fuck me like an animal where you used to work, and the security cameras are seeing this. Tomorrow, all your old work colleagues will know you were inside me, that you made me come all over your hard dick, and that you screamed my name like a little girl."

"Aaaaaghhhhahhh!" he groaned and his hips hit the bars, making a clanking sound.

"You like that, don't you? Knowing they're seeing your giant cock slipping inside my tight cunt. Knowing they can see what a kinky fucker you are as you let me bind you to this scaffolding. They know you're mine—my pet I do with as I please. They saw me plug your ass, and right now, it's moving inside you, while _you're_ inside _me_. It's what you've dreamed of since the moment you first saw me and touched my ass. You dreamed of being chained and out of your mind where all could see how much you love being controlled and your cock taken."

"Ohhhhh God! Mistress!" His head fell back, he licked his lips and his shoulders bunched and corded as his hands dug into the small of her back. "Please."

"Like a goddamn animal—a prisoner. My prisoner I'm punishing by fucking through these bars, and never letting him get balls deep. That's what my pet deserves for fantasizing about such dark, dirty things." She reached through with her right hand and right as that dick plunged inside one more time, she yanked that butt plug out, and he convulsed on the spot.

"Rosiiiiiieeeee! Fuuuuuuck! My God!" He spun into a racking orgasm, his legs bucking into the bars as he spasmed.

All at once, a searing heat flew through her veins, powered through her belly and overwhelmed her pussy. It contracted violently and she flew apart, gripping onto him with her free hand through the bars.

"Oh my God, oh God, oh fuuuuucking God," she chanted, breathless as her entire body clenched then released in rhythmic episodes.

"Yessss, Mistress . . ." he said, voice low and soft.

They hung limp through the bars and they both chuckled.

"Let's do that for our honeymoon," he suggested.

"Let's worry about getting you home and unwinding before we plan out how bad we'll be after we say, 'I do,'" she said.

"Uuuuhhhuhhh," he inhaled and exhaled in long sweeping breaths. "Anything you say."

"And this is why I'm addicted to you." She kissed him through the bars, released him and pulled her jellied legs off the bars. They both stumbled their way back to her car.

Thank God she was able to finally show him how much he meant to her. And she'd do her damnedest to show him as often as possible. He deserved it—her beautiful pet.

**A/N:**

**Okay, two more chapters and then this story's complete. We'll wrap up Edward and Bella's story and then send these happy couples on their way…**

**Let me know what you think about Mistress and her pet!**

**Thank you to all of you who've been rec'ing this story it means a lot to me. And thank you to my beta, Shenani and my pre-readers. They make this journey so fun!**

**Chanse**


	20. Chapter 20

**Chapter 20**

Edward held Bella all night. It was the best sleep she ever had.

And when she woke, he kissed her for several minutes with such passion, her toes cramped up from curling so much.

It was a good night, and a terrific morning.

"Morning, beautiful," he said fisting her hair and rubbing his clothed cock on her thigh.

"Morning, Sir." She smiled with a lazy grin, her eyelids heavy.

"I love watching you sleep. You smile sometimes, and you even make these happy little purring sounds." He kissed her cheek and rolled away.

"Oh, God, I'm . . . I didn't say anything did I, Sir?" She wiped the sleep out of her eyes.

"You only said the word fuck more times than I've ever heard you say it, and my name came out a few times." He smirked and winked.

"I did not," she said, her face going pale.

"If you want the proof, I'll play you the recording later." She gasped, and he continued on, "But right now, it's time to get up, eat, shower, get dressed. We've got somewhere to be."

He held his palm out to her.

"And you're still not going to tell me, Sir?"

"Nope," he said, popping his P. "But I will feed you, wash you, and dress you if you don't get your ass out of bed right now."

She groaned and heaved herself out of the comfortable nest they'd made.

"Just don't expect me to be all cheery without my caffeine fix. No smiles until my veins are buzzing, Sir."

"You give a good warning, but I hate to tell you—you've already smiled at me, so that makes you a liar. But since you barely woke up, I'll let it go . . ."

"Anything you'd like for breakfast, Sir?"

He grinned. "You already know what I like to eat. Pick something from the list, and get started on it. I'm gonna go shave." He left the room, and she sighed.

God, her brain was more sluggish than her body. Would he let her sleep in the car? She hoped so.

Bella headed out to the kitchen, whipped up some chocolate chip pancakes and served them with cottage cheese, sliced strawberries, blueberries, and strawberry preserves. She set out some orange juice and coffee, and hoped he'd be okay with the slight changes. He liked buttermilk pancakes, and he usually just wanted butter and syrup, but they needed something a little more substantial since she had no idea how long they'd be on the road, headed to God knew where.

Something thrummed through her veins, but it wasn't caffeine. It was the idea he was going to surprise her with a trip. Had a man ever done anything even remotely like this before? Nope. She popped that P in her head, exactly the way he had.

God, he looked good this morning.

Better than good.

If she didn't think it would get her in trouble for slowing him down, she'd jump him in the bathroom and take any punishment he gave her for trying to force herself on him.

How could she resist? The man's eyes were sexy enough to make her wet simply by catching one of his dark, heated gazes.

She kneeled by his chair and waited for him to arrive.

On cue, he arrived a few seconds later, stroked her hair and told her to rise.

He sat her in his lap, kissed her and fed her the first bite.

"Will you tell me if you like these pancakes, Sir?" she asked.

"I will." He leaned in, licked her lips then moaned. "Delicious . . ."

Her eyes slid closed. "Me or the food, Sir?"

"What do you think?" His voice lowered and his hands stroked her thighs.

"Me, I hope, but I would never pretend to know exactly what your devious mind is thinking, Sir."

He chuckled. "Good. That means I'm not too predictable, and hopefully, you have no idea where we're going today."

She dropped her head back and smiled. "I have no clue where you're taking me, Sir, and to tell the truth . . . even though it's driving me nuts, I'm kind of glad I don't know." Her head wobbled back and forth in a lazy way; she was so relaxed, she couldn't believe it. When had she ever been this loose and free? And sitting in a man's lap? She never would've guessed she'd be so comfortable with this type of gesture.

Edward cleared his plate, had her clear hers as well, and when they were done, he showered her, paying meticulous attention to her pussy as he cleaned her up.

She was so turned on, she was fine with him dressing her and telling her exactly how to wear her hair and makeup for the day.

She was too happy to care about the little things that usually sent her into hysterics and made her anus pucker tighter than a vice grip.

Edward packed her bag for her, since she was unsure of what to bring.

It seemed he was taking care of everything, so the only thing she could think to do was pack him a few blondies she'd made. He loved those.

And she loved how his face lit up anytime she made him a treat.

"Ready to go?" he asked. He had been whistling a moment earlier.

"I can tell you are, Sir. I'd say you're giddy, but I don't think that's allowed for Doms," she teased.

He smacked her ass playfully then leaned over and bit her shoulder. "Careful there, little one. I can always make time for punishment if need be."

"I'll remember that when I'm trapped in a car with you—for how long . . .?" she fished.

He grinned with a lopsided smile. "For however long it takes."

"Ugh! You really aren't going to tell me—not even now, Sir?"

"Nope." He sure liked popping those P's today.

He had their bags in the car already; he took her hand and led her out.

More whistling.

Who was this man?

She watched him in fascination.

Once in the car, he buckled her up himself, kissed her nose and drove off without another word.

They talked about his childhood, what subjects she enjoyed in high school, how many boyfriends she had and why her parents seemed to disapprove of everything. His family sounded ideal, but unfortunately, they'd passed away in a horrible car accident eight years ago, and he didn't have any siblings.

This was the most he'd ever shared about his past and who he was.

She soaked every word, and the more he opened up, the more absorbed she was by him.

Was there anything about him she didn't find impressive?

Out of nowhere, Edward pulled over on the side of the road.

"What's going on, Sir? Why are we stopping here?"

"This is when it gets fun," he said, smirking.

"It's already been fun. I've loved every minute, and, Sir, I could sit and talk to you all day long and never get bored." She exhaled slow and steady. The day kept getting better as it progressed.

"Good. I'm glad to hear that, now lean forward."

She did as he asked.

"Close your eyes until I say to open them," he said in a throaty, deep timbre.

That voice could lead her straight to hell, and she'd be happy to go, just to keep listening.

His fingers were at the back of her neck, latching a necklace in place. The cool metal made her shoulders hunch up, and she fought off a shiver.

He kissed her temple.

"Almost done," he said.

His fingers left the nape of her neck and then he was slipping a blindfold over her eyes.

"Thank you, Sir," she said.

"For?"

"For today—for everything. I love being here with you."

"Being a grateful sub is important, but even better—a loving, caring woman. That's what I treasure about you." He blew across the tops of her breasts. Her skin instantly heated at his breath, and the idea he was staring at them made her gut flip.

"You'll need both of these, trust me." He slid a finger between her head and the blindfold to make sure it was snug, but not overly tight. "Does it feel okay?"

"It feels nice." Maybe she could take a nap if things lulled and he wouldn't be offended?

Her head leaned back against the headrest, and her shoulders melted into her seat.

"We've got about twenty minutes, and once we get there I'll let you know what's going on. This is a full exercise of trust, and while we're there, anytime you feel uncomfortable, I expect you to take my hand. If it gets really difficult, squeeze it, and I'll know you need some time away," he told her.

"Sir . . . ?" The happy glowing feelings were fading, being replaced by worry. "Should I be concerned?"

"Not when you're with me, Isabella. I'll always take care of you—in all things and in all places you might find yourself."

"Okay."

"Thank you for your trust."

"You're welcome, Sir. You've earned it."

The rest of the drive she was silent. He was humming, singing along to some music he'd put on. As before, his voice lulled her into a tranquil, blissful state.

The car finally stopped right when she was about to doze off.

"Listen carefully, little one. This is important, and I'm only going to tell you once before I remove the blindfold. Take deep breaths and know this has all been planned; I know what I'm doing and exactly how this is going to go," he told her.

"Fooooohhhhhh," she blew out. "All right. I'm listening, Sir."

Her heart raced.

"We're at your parents' home," he began.

Her entire body immediately tensed up and bile hit the back of her throat. Alarms were screaming in her head, her eyes scrunched tight and she could no longer hear him. "No, no, no, no," she chanted under her breath, shaking her head in the smallest movements possible. Maybe he wouldn't hear her or see her reaction.

But why? How? I mean, who did he . . . What would possess him, and she w-wouldn't go in—she couldn't. Dear God, they . . . No!

"Calm yourself, sweetheart, I'm still here with you. It's going to be different than before." He kissed her, and in a blinding flash, the blindfold was yanked off.

White. Bright lightning. Throbbing between her ears.

Her head spun.

Her eyes stung and tears singed her lashes.

It was all wrong.

This perfect man really had dragged her to hell, and she'd let him.

Her head jerked away from him and tears gushed freely.

She gripped the handle on the door.

"I can't do this," she whimpered.

"You can. They're expecting us, and they're excited to see you and meet me in person," he said.

"You don't know—they're . . ." She blew across her bottom lip and her face twitched and burned everywhere. "You don't—you can't believe them."

He stroked her back. "Shhh . . . I know . . ."

She rounded on him, her head snapping back at him as her eyes raged at him. "You don't know! No, you can't! If you did, you never would've brought me here." She pointed at the house as snot ran down her lip and tears continued to drench her rotten cheeks. "That man calls me girl, and not in a nice way. He looks at me like I'm trash, and when I lived here, I felt less than that. He told me what to wear, and said if I acted like a whore, I was one. He looked down his nose at me every damn day. He pissed on everything I did that was good."

He pulled her into a hug. "That's why I put your cross necklace back on your neck. You're going to show him you're strong—doing what's best for you, and if he gets nasty, we'll leave. But you're so brave, and so beautiful, and you told me you didn't care what he thought anymore. Was all that an exaggeration? I didn't think it was, but if I misunderstood—"

"N-no, it was the truth, but I . . . I need time to prepare, this is like throwing me to a ravenous crowd of cannibals and not giving me a weapon." She pulled back out of his hug and swiped at the tears. "I mean, look at me—am I supposed to go in there with red-rimmed eyes, looking a wreck?"

"No, you're supposed to go in with your head held high, and realize the other reason we're here is this—" he pulled out a ring with a gigantic diamond and slipped it on her finger "—I need to meet the future in-laws." He bit his bottom lip but it didn't stop a wicked grin from spreading and taking over half his face. "Say yes, Isabella. Be my wife."

"Yes!" She cupped her mouth and a different type of tears washed her face clean. "Yes, Sir—I'll marry you."

"Well, thank fuck because I was also hoping to give you this after we're done here, and replace that cross necklace," he said, pulling out a silver chain necklace with a pendant in the middle.

Her eyes went wide. "Is that a . . . a . . . a c-colllllar," she stammered, her mouth covered with her hand that seemed to weigh a million pounds from the extravagant looking engagement ring.

"It is, and I'd be honored if you took it in addition to the ring," he said. "They're kind of a set." He took her hand off her mouth, opened it and set the necklace in her hands. Her eyes grew even bigger.

"It's beautiful—Sir, I don't know what to say . . ."

"Besides yes? Well, you're doing fine." He leaned in kissed her. "Read the back of the tag."

She swallowed the lump of a thousand emotions in her throat. This was a roller coaster, and she might never get off if he was at her side.

Her fingers fumbled but managed to flip it over.

She swallowed harder and read, "Your heart is safe with me. E's little one."

She slid out of her seat and wrapped herself around him.

"Thank you," she said, muffled by her lips pressing into his neck.

"Thank you, sweet girl. I love you."

"Love you, too." Her body shook as she cried some more.

He stroked her back, and when she calmed, took a few breaths, she went back to her seat. "Put it on me, Sir?"

"Do you think that's a good idea? Your parents might ask about it and wonder where your cross necklace is," he reminded her.

"I don't give a fuck. This is all the strength I need to get through this—please," she said, eyes soft and begging. "I want to."

He beamed. "That's my little one—so courageous."

His fingers were swift to undo the cross necklace. He tucked it into his pocket, took the collar from her and set it in place then kissed the pendant, the blank side that everyone else would see, but she'd know those words, the ones that penetrated her soul, would rest against her throat, and each time she breathed or swallowed, it would be right there branding her as his.

It was all she needed.

She fingered it, her eyes glazed over and she took a deep inhale. "Ready now, Sir."

"Wonderful." He ran the back of his fingers down her cheek. "So goddamn beautiful, it makes my heart ache."

She smiled and went mute. What was there to say? She felt the exact same about him.

He got out of the car, helped her out, took her hand and walked her up the rose lined walkway to the front door.

Oh, God—a deceitful house for a deceitful family.

"You've talked to them on the phone, right, Sir?"

He nodded and knocked on the door.

"My dad?"

"Yes, Isabella. Breathe, relax and lean into me. It's gonna be fine."

"You say that now," she muttered under her breath and dropped her gaze, bending her head down.

She gave a slow blink, exhaled even slower and her gut spasmed the moment that door opened.

"Well, there she is!" her mom said out of breath.

"Hi, Mom," Isabella said quietly.

"Get over here!" She grabbed her daughter into a big hug. "And tell me about your boyfriend."

"This is Edward—"

"Her fiancé," he cut in.

"Oh. My. God!" her mom squealed. "I can't believe it! You're finally getting married, we never thought it would happen for you!" She released her daughter and turned to him. "Too damn picky, this one." She chuckled.

Bella stepped back and grabbed his hand right away. This was gonna be rough, and this was just Mom—she was the easy one.

"Charles, they're here," her mom hollered over her shoulder. She opened the door wider and ushered them in.

Edward set his arm around her waist and pulled her along.

Bella could barely breathe, and she was glad since she did _not_ want to remember the way this house smelled. It would bring back memories of failure, looks of disgust, snide comments at her expense and years' worth of hiding.

Mom showed them to the living room. Her father sat in his recliner, beer in hand, lost in the game he was watching.

"What? No! Idiots—freaking catch the ball. Are you blind, man?" he yelled and out of nowhere, his beer was flung at the screen.

It must've been empty since nothing sloshed out, but Bella cringed nonetheless.

This was Edward's intro to her dad. Gruff didn't even begin to describe this asshole in front of them.

"Dad, I want you to meet Edward, my fiancé," she said, clearing her throat in the middle.

"Who?" Dad's head turned as if on a rusty old hand crank.

"Edward Cullen—we spoke on the phone yesterday and last week twice." He extended his hand.

Her father scowled, looked at the offered hand as if it was possibly diseased then shook it with an examining glare. "You're really gonna marry this girl?"

"That's if she's crazy enough to have me," Edward said, his tone lighthearted.

Had Bella ever heard him sound this carefree?

"She's gotta take whatever she can at this point." Dad pointed at the couch across from him—his way of telling them to sit. He didn't even have the decency to shut the TV off, and it was blaringly loud. "Listen, I don't wanna scare you off, since God knows her mother's been dying for her to be married off, but you've gotta know, she's not—"

"Dad, no!" Bella groaned and hid her face in her hands.

Edward pulled her into his side and squeezed her reassuringly.

"I know who your daughter is, and she's the most caring, most beautiful woman I've ever met. I'm astounded she has been so mistreated by men all her life."

She stiffened in his arms. Did he just say what she thought he did?

She peeked at him through the corner of her eye.

"That's because she's good at coming across all innocent and sweet, but she's got the devil in her." Dad's chair slammed down, coming out of the reclined position to ramrod straight. He leaned forward, elbows on his knees. "I don't know if she's told you already, but she was engaged before to Doug. A good clean kid, and she screwed it up. She never went to confession and she—"

"I went all the time!" Bella gasped.

"Quiet—I'm talking," Dad barked and his jaw flexed. "She did not go. She dressed in tight revealing clothing the few times she returned to go to church with us, she giggled like an airhead, which made my teeth grind my fillings into dust, and she flirted with every man around. It was disgusting. I told her to come home each Sabbath, since she obviously needed God in her life, but did she? No! No confession for my daughter and her black ways. Doug did, though. He was there every Sunday, taking this stuff serious. I told him to show her what to wear, how to dress modestly but she was too stubborn and ignored his and my help. I wondered if she'd even talk to the pastor before they got married, but then that never had to happen because he had to dump her."

Edward held his breath. "I'm sure he told a good story, but that's not what happened."

"Pardon me? You didn't see her when she was twelve—shaming me, wearing those skin tight gymnastic outfits, dancing around like a prostitute, wearing more makeup than any girl her age ever should, and spreading her legs in the air like it was a good thing." He huffed.

"Doug's story is very one sided," Edward came back at him. "That's the problem here."

"Did _you_ see what he did? Were you there?" Dad's eyes grew dark. "I've watched her as she headed down a filthy path for years. Doug tried to steer her right." He sniffed and cocked his head. "You seem to think you know her so well, but were you there?"

"I didn't have to be. I see the marks she bears, the scars he caused, and any man that would call her—"

"She deserved to be called a deviant bitch. She asked him to tie her up! Did she tell you that?"

Edward sat still, calm as could be. "She did."

"She's a whore, and he knew it, so he called her that, too. He said no man would ever want her, and I agreed. So, why do you?" Dad blinked and looked concerned for Edward's soul.

Edward turned his head toward Bella and said in the clearest tone ever, "Because she's the reason I can breathe. She's the reason my world makes sense, and I'd be damned if I ever let her go. That man was afraid," he turned back to her father, "he had no idea how to handle a woman this intelligent, this fiery, and powerful. She's got enough soul that she managed to create one for me. A man like him was intimidated, and he obviously ought to be."

"Renee, call the pastor right now. I want him here to talk some sense into these two," Dad said.

"But I—"

"No need. I already called him. He's expecting us in half an hour," Edward interrupted her. "I'm excited to meet him, and I'll be happy to give confession if that would ease your worries."

Dad coughed and sputtered. "Wh-what did you say?"

"Isabella's going to confession, too. She's got a clean conscience, so I'm sure she won't have much to say, but that's okay—she can visit with you while I purge all the vile, blackness of my soul."

"Is this a joke?" her dad said through his locked teeth.

It did sound like Edward might be poking fun.

"Only if you think it is," Edward replied.

Bella fingered the cool disc placed at her throat, attached to a silvery web of links—kind of like the tendrils of sanity he breathed into her life with every passing moment.

"Come, little one. We're off to meet the man who'll like to think he's saved me, even though you've already done that," Edward told her then he stood and helped her up.

"This is blasphemous. Only God can forgive through his priests—through the proper authority. My daughter has no saving grace—she's lucky if she makes it through the day without violating half of God's commandments."

Edward stilled and gave a pensive gaze for a moment.

"What does love mean to you, Mr. Swan?" Edward asked.

"It means loyalty. It means responsibility. It means a lot of hard work," Dad hissed.

"Well, it seems you've done all those things, so by your definition, you've been successful, but let me tell you what it means to me." Edward pulled her into his side and wrapped an arm around her waist and kissed her ring without taking his eyes off her dad. "By my definition, it means being vulnerable. It means accepting everything about the other person, and not only allowing their idiosyncrasies, but craving them and adoring them. It means losing one's breath every time they're near, and can't imagine living another day without them. It's the water, it's the air, it's the fire of life. That's what your daughter taught me about love and about who she is. I see her down to the core."

"Nobody should see that much of anyone. It's indecent, and unnatural."

"Exactly why it sounds like I need confession, and I'll be damned if I ever stop loving her like that since I know no other way." Edward propelled her forward and before she could say anything, she was back in the car, being buckled back up and hauled off to confession.

Right before he parked, she blurted, "Doug said I was too high maintenance, now you know why. He saw how my family interacted, and how I scurried around, tightly wound, trying to keep my parents' happy. I can't do that anymore. You don't want me to, do you, Sir?"

"No. You're only to concern yourself with pleasing me," he replied, eyes soft and glowing like a tranquil forest.

"Then why go to confession? It's for them, and I thought the whole point was to basically tell him to go to hell?"

"How better to do that then to win over his church authority?" He grinned and stroked her cheek.

"This may just work." She smiled back.

"It will."

She breathed a tight, constricted puff of air, but when he kissed her, it expunged the rest of the air out of her lungs and she almost felt dizzy.

"And when we're done, I'll need confession again right after, because I intend to fuck you up against your childhood bedroom wall, on your childhood bed, and maybe even in your bathroom. If you're loud enough for the folks to hear it, I may have to demand an encore."

She went breathless and boneless all at once.

Her stomach squeezed and juiced all fluids into her pussy, making her indecently wet for a confession booth.

"I really want to remind you that Doug cheated on me—since my dad's flinging accusations at me today. You'll remember that, right, Sir?"

"I remember every fucking thing you've ever told me about this mess," he said, pointing at the church. "I know what they've done to you, and I'm undoing it all—starting now."

"Okay." Another deep exhale and she could do this.

"Hey, I'm proud of you," he said, his index finger hooking under her chin and tipping her head up. "More than I've ever been of anybody, and I don't give that way easily."

"God, Edward—I love you so much. If you weren't here . . ."

"But I am. Let's get in there. You'll sound like a saint next to me—and that's as it should be."

He gave her a soft, lingering peck and then exited the car.

A moment later, she was drifting inside, and it was surreal, slightly scary and at the same time, kind of a turn on that he cared this much.

That he would go to this length to see to her well-being from every section of her life.

He truly loved her. He had to after all this shit he was putting himself through.

A warm, honeyed feeling dripped down her spine, invaded her heart and pumped into her entire body. It was like floating above it all—being impervious to crashing, riotous waves and knowing she'd come out better than all right. She'd be fantastic and all because of this generous, ethereal man at her side.

With some semblance of confidence, Bella strode inside the church and was greeted right away by Pastor Mike.

Edward went rigid at her side.

When she tried to look at him to find what the matter was, Edward stepped forward. "Hi, Mike. We spoke on the phone—I'm Edward Cullen, Bella's _fiancé_ . . ."

The word fiancé hung in the air like a rotting piece of meat. It soured the mood, and Mike's expression—one of gratitude, shifted and changed to one of hostility.

"You never mentioned that part," Mike said, shifting toward Bella and away from Edward.

He reached out to take her hand, but Edward intervened.

"I also spoke to Father Wayne, and he said he'd be more than happy to accommodate us since you're usually quite busy on the weekends, preparing for your sermon," Edward added.

"Well, I have time to squeeze one of you in," the Pastor said.

"Great, I'm dying to get this over," Edward said, breaking away from Bella, directing her over to a seat next to Father Wayne's office.

She was seated, stunned, and watched as they disappeared while Mike gave her a confused look and then seemed to grimace.

That wasn't half as strange as the glare he shot Edward.

What the hell was going on?

A moment later, Father Wayne exited his office and greeted her.

The old man limped a little, but made sure to give her a hearty handshake.

"My word, we haven't seen you in a while," Father Wayne said. "Good to see ya, and you look like you're doing really well."

She fingered what she now thought of as her touch-plate at her throat. "Yeah, well, there's a reason."

"Your father," he supplied.

"Yeah, him, and other reasons."

"Doug," he added on.

She nodded and swallowed, her fingers still exploring the small metal disc keeping her centered.

_I'm Edward's . . . He wants me; he believes me to be good . . ._

"Right this way. Your fiancé told me on the phone you both needed to be seen for confession, and your parents are on their way soon as well. I suppose your father wants to make sure you go through with this, but I told him that was unnecessary. I knew you'd be here and do as you said you would." He smiled, and the lines framing his eyes made them that much warmer and friendly.

"Thank you, but he'll do whatever he wants, and it's fine—really. I'm good. Edward's here, and I've got you," she said, using a teasing tone, but she was serious.

"You do, indeed." He walked beside her as they headed to the confession booths.

The second she was in there, the strangest thing happened. She wasn't just confessing sins, she was spouting off about how her life had completely changed, about how much Edward meant to her, and how she was happier than she'd ever been. God was there for her after all.

When she was done, she swallowed a huge, labored breath and was completely drained, but relaxed and limp, kind of how she felt after spending a large amount of time being mentally picked apart by her soon-to-be husband and lover.

Her entire body covered with chills—starting at her head and rolling down to her toes. Her hands went to her lap and clasped together.

"Bella—I've gotta say, I'm really proud of you. It takes a lot of guts to face what you have, and even though you've never done confession with me before since Father Mike always insisted he do it since he knew you better, I'm impressed. I knew there was something off with your dad and with Doug. I never pried—never wanted to know because I figured you'd tell me if you needed my help, but here you've managed your life beautifully."

She smiled with a brightness she couldn't even explain. He didn't even flinch when she talked about her dark desires, how the life she was navigating included BDSM. She was unsure of how much detail to offer so she kept it vague, but it was enough.

He told her what her penance should be as if it was simple and not a big deal at all.

She left his presence, went back to the chair Edward had seated her in and glanced around for him.

Edward was nowhere near, but while she was waiting patiently and with an air of dignity, in walked her parents.

"I hope you're happy, young lady," her dad sneered. "Your mother's been crying, and I had to call Doug to come help me get her out of the house!"

Bella simply looked away and refused to answer.

"She _is_ happy," Father Wayne said, opening the door to his office he'd just closed a few moments earlier. "I took confession from her, and she's a very bright woman with a good head on her shoulders and a wonderful, loving fiancé."

Dad looked taken aback. "You can't know that from one confession . . ."

"How about I take yours, and we'll see what you think afterward," Father Wayne offered, extending his arm to show the way.

Dad grumbled something about stupid know-it-all priests that were getting in the way.

Pastor Mike saw to her entire family's confessions. Dad insisted, and so did the Pastor.

She never understood what the big deal was, it always made her kind of uneasy.

Her mom sat next to her and fidgeted, failing to look at her own daughter.

"Sorry if this is uncomfortable for you," Bella said.

"It's been a long time coming," Mom answered.

"What has? Me coming back and causing you this pain?"

Her mom looked up through watery lashes. "No—you telling him he's wrong. He needed it. I need it."

"You do?" Bella's voice broke and her throat constricted.

"Yeah. I told him this was it. Either he accepted you as you were—a sweet, caring individual, able to make her own choices, or he let you go completely, and realize you would never come back. I don't want to lose you, but I understand why you've stayed away, and why you might choose to do it again." He mom leaned in and Bella hugged her tightly.

"I had no idea you felt this way," she whispered through a tight clasp around her mother's frame.

"I wasn't ever given the chance to say it, or at least that's what I told myself. I love you, honey. You're my pride, joy and now, my backbone." She pulled away and cupped Bella's cheek with a hesitant smile.

There was something more going on here, but before she could ask, Edward joined them.

"Thank you, Mrs. Swan. I'll take Bella back to your place. We'll be staying the night as we originally planned," Edward stated.

Bella's spine filled with icy dread. "No," she whimpered.

"Yes. It's all taken care of." Edward took her hand in his.

Her free hand flew to her neck and surrounded her collar.

"I . . ."

"What did I tell you we'd be doing after confession?" he leaned in and whispered in her ear.

She startled at the seductive timbre of his voice and lunged forward.

They needed to damn well run if they were going to have sex at her parents' place before they got home.

But Edward seemed to have different plans as his feet dragged.

The car ride back was tense for various reasons and her mind raced while her heart thumped sporadically in her too tight chest.

"Breathe, little one. You'll pass out, and you want to be awake for what's to come," he told her, the air thick with anticipation.

When they got to the house, she sat rigid in her seat, stuck in the car, her eyes closed.

The car door opened, and he pulled her out, set her aside for a moment with her eyes still locked shut. He shut the door and slung her up into his arms.

"I . . . But what're we . . ." she began but shut her mouth.

He was beaming at her.

"Do you know how hard it was confessing to that asshole with an erection made of steel all for you—knowing I was less than an hour away from making love to you?"

She barked a laugh. "Asshole? You're calling a man of God an asshole, Sir? That seems a bit much."

"Okay, prick. I'll give him that title instead. He's in love with you, and I would've fucking killed him if he'd accepted confession from you today."

"He does not."

"Bella . . ." He gave a warning with his tight voice. "It took me less than five seconds to size that prick up. He had a blaring erection before I did—the moment he saw you, his eyes were roaming all over you—disgusting pig," he growled. "I can see now why Doug and your dad were able to keep you under their thumb; with the help of that nasty piece of work called Mike."

She shook her head and swallowed, gathering her thoughts.

"Don't contradict me. You can't see it—you're too forgiving and sweet. I almost got a confession from him myself on the matter, so there's no need to tell me otherwise."

She choked on her tongue that felt ten sizes bigger than normal.

"What the hell did he say?" she squeaked.

"When I told him I was done and leaving to fuck you now, he came undone. It was actually quite humorous if I hadn't been worried about what he might do to keep us from leaving, but your dad caught up with Mike, and Father Wayne took over. Good man, Wayne."

"Yeah, he is . . ." she said, her voice trailing off.

"No more talking about this—it's a turn off, and I want you ready for me—and my big _cock_," he bit out. "You've been dying for this—haven't you? Dying for me to fuck you into an oblivion, and you know you'll never recover from this because it's me. Because it's you. It's us—finally connecting the way we both need." He dipped his head down and inhaled deeply. "Oh, yeah, you're ready to be fucked—_hard_, and in your parents' house." His arms twitched.

He set her down in front of the door and opened it.

Her eyes went wide.

Dad left it unlocked? Seemed unlike him.

How'd Edward pull this off?

But then he always had control of every situation.

He took her in hand, pulled her inside and shut the door. She was up against the wall, surrounded by him, and his cock was already out, her hands encased around it by him.

"Take it . . . You want it . . . Feel how intense it's gonna be with me," he said, gripping her cunt in his hands.

In the next breath, he picked her back up and whispered she better fucking trust him, or punishment would definitely follow.

The next thing she knew, they were in her parents' bedroom, she was stripped down and being sprawled out on their bed.

He was naked in the next eye blink and moved to her parents' closet. "Perfect," he muttered.

"What's perfect, Sir?"

"Wouldn't you like to feel it, rather than hear about it, little subbie?" He turned her over onto her stomach and she groaned. They were on her parents' bed about to fuck. How sick was this? And why was she so drenched over this?

A soft length of material was wound around her wrists and her arms were placed above her head.

He had her bound and so hot for him, she could barely breathe.

"God, Edward . . . We're . . . here, and we're gonna . . . Christ!"

"Yeah, we are, now open for me, and I'll show you what you mean to me," he said, pushing her legs wide, propping her ass up.

He fingered around her anus, but never penetrated it.

She gasped at the feel of his hands there. Their first experience was going to be anal, and on _this_ bed?

She could barely comprehend it, when Edward's mouth came down on her pussy and it was surprisingly tender and soft.

His lips moved gently over her labia, his tongue drifted over her entrance in a adoring, almost reverent way.

"Fuck . . . This taste—pure angel, and all for me," he breathed into her.

She fisted the bedspread and panted while her vision blurred.

And then . . . Oh God, sweet relief.

He inched his way inside her pussy, slowly and with agonizing control.

"You're gonna feel all of this . . . Tight, blinding, overwhelming . . . Take it all in, little one. I'm inside you, and you feel insanely perffffect," he grunted at the end and finally slid all the way in with a wild thrust at the end like he couldn't control it any longer.

"Is this just sex? Tell me," he said, surging inside her, still too slow for her.

She clenched around him and her jaw flexed.

"Is it? Is this what you want from me—just my cock—to be fucked like a dirty whore?" He leaned across her back, held her shoulders down and hissed in her ear, "is it about getting laid and a one-night encounter?"

"No."

"No, what?" He smacked her ass and dug his hands into her cheeks.

"What is it then? What am I doing to you and your tight little cunt?" His paced picked up.

"You're . . . Making love to me," she murmured.

"No, I'm not. Try again."

She was being pounded now, and it was hard to speak, hard to breath, hard to know what to do. Her hands bunched together and held tight with the covers in between.

"I don't kn-knowwww," she rasped. "It's more . . . It's everything." Her head angled away from him and she moaned low and deep, vibrating in her belly.

He smacked her ass again, but this time it was erotic and filled with a taste of something forbidden and tempting.

"Oh gawwwd! More!"

"Then tell me what this is—in detail," he said, stroking her cheeks.

Then out of nowhere, he pulled out of her, flipped her onto her back and had her knees up by her ears. "Hold the fuck on because this is your answer . . ." He plowed inside her, hitting every nerve ending in her pussy, making it gush and all but fucking spray down the comforter.

"It's me—it's what I've b-b-been searching for. It's power—it's God, it's my religion—it's you, Sir. You're what I need."

"All you need?" His brow popped up and he pinched her nipples as he continued the onslaught of sensations.

"It's, yes, Christ!" Her back arched a little as she took him a little deeper. "I only need you—_this_—what you want to give me!"

"Have you learned what I needed to teach you?" he said through gritted teeth, the tendons standing out in his neck, his chest twitching.

Her fingers flexed and bunched back together then he shifted her hips up by moving his thighs.

It was . . .

"Oh God . . . Oh God, I'm gonna . . . Sir, fucking God, I'm gonna come—may I . . . Oh shiiiit!" She was staring in his eyes, he was smiling at her like he worshiped her, and she was coming. It was too late.

A force like a hurricane ripped through her, swept everything she ever knew—rules, meant to hold her in check but actually degrading to all she was, were gone. All she knew was him.

It didn't matter she was soiling her parents' bed. There was nothing debased about it. It wasn't filthy or disgusting, and didn't make her a filthy slut.

It made her special—it made her Edward's and that was all that mattered.

Edward convulsed, and then he pulled out, his dick pushed into her mouth as he spurted his semen onto her waiting tongue. It was difficult to breathe when she was still in the middle of orgasm, but she found a way.

For him, she did it.

And it was fucking Heaven in the middle of her former Hell.

It was selfish, but she didn't care—she made him do everything. He handled her father and protected her. He took care of her.

And after that bone-melting experience just now and mind cleanse, she simply laid lax in the bed and watched him go about cleaning her up, getting her redressed and then she was on the couch.

He was dressed, too, glowing as he moved about her parents' house like he belonged here.

It was baffling, but nice in an odd way.

He scribbled a note and left it on the kitchen table.

"We're leaving," he told her and grabbed her up off the couch.

"I thought we were staying the night?"

"That was until I fucked you," he said.

"Why does that change things?"

He turned to her, put his finger over her lips to silence her.

"I want to do that again and again and again. All night, I plan to be inside you, and if you're gonna be that loud, I know your dad'll come after me with a hundred priests and he'll probably give them all a weapon to come at me. Since I'm not in the mood to stop fucking long enough to slaughter them all and bury them, we're going home."

She groaned. It was a few hours' drive, and she was already on board with his plan to fuck again.

Or make love.

Or whatever this more thing was they had. It was exquisite—like him.

"I love you." She smiled and it drifted across her entire body.

"Thank God because I can't get enough of you." He took her hand, dragged her out to the car and had her inside so fast, she had to blink hard to figure out they were already driving away.

_Buzzzz, buzzzz, buzzz . . ._

His phone was vibrating.

"Edward here," he answered it.

In a matter of seconds, he went from radiating joy to tense and biting in tone.

"What happened?"

She leaned toward him and gripped the edge of her seat.

"What is it?" she mouthed.

He shot her warning look to keep silent.

"Oh, God . . . Is anyone hurt?"

She bit the edge of her tongue and winced.

What did that look mean?

His eyes were misted now.

"We're on our way," he said and ended the call.

"Edward, what's—"

"The club—it's destroyed . . ."

**A/N:**

**Happy 4th of July to those of you who celebrate.**

**Thank you to Shenaniwhatagans for beta'ing for me.**

**Chanse**


	21. Chapter 21

**Chapter 21**

Edward bit back a cry of despair as they drove up to the club.

It was charred beyond belief, the structure barely standing.

"My God in Heaven," Bella whimpered at his side.

"Stay here. Don't get out of this car—" he turned to her and gave that look "—I mean it. Don't you step a toe out of this car."

She nodded.

He gave her a quick peck on the lips, another swift warning look and exited the car.

If anything happened to her—if Tim was around . . .

His neck and shoulders tensed and something inside him said to lock the doors, so he did.

She'd be safe for now.

There were police milling about, fire fighters, and Rose, Emmett and Jasper were speaking to various individuals, filling out reports.

Alice was missing.

Edward strode up to Jasper. "Where's Alice?"

"At home. I had Carlisle come over to keep an eye on her," Jasper replied.

"I'll drop Bella off there and be right back."

Jasper nodded, Edward got back in his car, and right as he was about to depart, an officer rapped on his window.

Edward rolled it down.

"We can't let you leave, sir," the officer said.

"I'm taking her home real quick and I'll be right back—you have my word," Edward told him.

The office nodded and waved them on.

When Edward glanced over at Bella, he could see why the cop let them go.

Bella was sobbing uncontrollably, and looked ready to burst into screaming fits.

"I'm taking you to Jasper's place. Alice is there, and my good friend, Carlisle. He'll keep you both safe until I get back to you," he told her.

She shook at his side, silent; her fear was palpable.

"I don't want you to go back there," she whimpered.

"I have to."

"But if Tim . . ."

He reached over and placed a hand on her thigh and squeezed.

"There are police all over the place. If he did this, I'm sure he's long gone," he said in a reassuring, gentle tone.

She shifted toward him. "No, he'd stay. He's sick like that. He'd want to watch."

"And what would you suggest I do as part owner of this establishment? Hide? They need to inform me of the particulars of what's happened. I need to be there," he reiterated.

"Will you text me and tell me what's going on every chance you get?"

"You know I will."

She hooked her fingers at the first set of joints over her collar and hung them there as if it was strangling her.

"It'll be fine. I'll be back soon, and you and Alice can visit." His knuckles popped on the steering column and the wheel made that squeaking leather sound when he turned too sharply, which he had. He was jumpy but trying to hide it for her benefit.

She was probably right. Tim might be responsible, and might be there lurking, observing, and probably whacking off over it while remaining hidden in the shadows.

But he couldn't think about that right now. All he could focus on was making sure she was safe and out of the way.

"You know Tim's there—that's why you're dumping me off somewhere else," she murmured, her head down, eyes cast on the floor.

"Bella . . . It doesn't matter. You need to do this for me," he said.

"Why? Why can't I be with you? I'll be sick with worry over you. I won't be able to talk to Alice—I'll be a nervous wreck, praying for you, watching my phone, crawling out of my skin to get back to you!" She was breathing so hard, she was close to hyperventilating.

"Sweetheart, take a deep breath."

She did with a stuttering gasp.

"And another."

Same result.

"Now, close your eyes." He pulled up into Jasper's driveway.

After her eyes were closed, he leaned in close and stroked her back. "I'm inside you, right now. Breathe into it—let the image stick in your mind—the way I felt moving inside your tight cunt."

She shivered and blew out.

"Good. I know you feel me still there. It tingles, and it takes over your mind and then your body." His hands roamed down her spine and she melted into his touch. The way she shaped herself into his hands was mesmerizing. Beautiful, glorious creature . . . "I want you to go inside, visit for a few minutes with Alice. Find out what she knows about the club, and then you lie down and rest. If you can't sleep, then I want you to journal for me. Write until you can't write any longer, and then try to rest again. If you still can't rest, then you are to eat something and visit with Carlisle. He'll keep your mind occupied. These are your instructions. Got 'em?"

"I do, Sir."

"Good girl—making me proud as usual," he lilted. He kissed the tip of her nose and she offered a weak smile in return.

"I'll miss you every second. I'll worry, but I trust you." She exhaled in a pitiful little whimper.

"I'll miss you, too, every second as well. I love you. Do as I ask, and we'll both be much better off. We'll get through this," he said and then he was out of the car, helping her inside.

He shared his instructions quickly with Carlisle, thanked him for keeping an eye on his girl and he was off, back to the club.

His heart about ripped out of his chest when he saw Emmett huddled over, tucked into Rose's arm. It was obvious he was crying. His entire mammoth frame was shaking.

He squared his shoulder, set his jaw and stepped out, ready to deal with whatever they told him.

"Edward," Jasper waved him over.

He walked over and paused when he heard the firefighter mention the words, "Burned female body."

"What did he just say?" Edward asked Jasper.

"Apparently, they found a woman screaming, locked in the ladies room. They got the door opened, but she died shortly after. She was cut in her femoral artery with a severe gash also on her forehead. She was attacked." Jasper paused. "And before she lost consciousness, she named the person responsible for harming her and the fire."

"Let me guess . . . Tim?"

"Yeah, but that's not all," Jasper said, turning to the side for a little privacy.

"Turns out he's a silent owner in another BDSM kink club, and he was pissed their business wasn't thriving like ours was. He's not a sadist at all. The man's completely psycho."

"You got him?" Rose's voice carried.

"Tim?" Edward jumped and whirled around.

"Yeah, they caught him!" Rose and Emmett rushed right over to their side.

"How? Where?" Jasper said through a cough.

The smoke was still lingering in the air.

"Oh my God! Don't freak out, but he came to your place," she told Jasper. "The police were watching it just in case, and when he came to the door, Carlisle immediately started throwing punches. Alice called 911, and the police in the vicinity took him into custody right away. He's been hauled off already," Rose said. "That officer over there just told me. He has more details. You might want to go to talk to him." She pointed at a squat blond man, on his CB in his car, rambling off facts as quickly as possible.

Edward pulled out his phone, called Bella right away.

He had to make sure she was okay.

"Edward?" she answered after the very first ring. "Are you hurt?"

He chuckled. "No, I'm fine. The question is, are you all right? Did Tim touch you?" His chest tightened and he wheezed at the very thought of Tim being anywhere near her.

"No, he never even saw me. I was lying down like you told me to when he came to the door. I didn't know what was happening until Alice came into my room and was dialing for help." She exhaled. "I know it probably sounds weird, but I was relieved."

"Why would you be relieved?"

He could hear her smile in the her breath and the way her voice started off all sweet and light. "Because I knew Tim was away from you, and now we knew where he was. I hoped that maybe this time we'd get him."

Two officers were approaching. "Hey, I've gotta go, but I wanted to see how you were doing. I'm so glad you're okay. I'll be home soon, hopefully. Love you."

"Love you, too."

They ended the call and Edward was set on the task of filling out all sorts of paperwork, being told where they would go from here, what needed to be done, and the list went on and on.

Insurance would contact him very soon.

When they were finally done giving their reports, Rose, Emmett, Jasper and Edward almost huddled in the parking lot together.

"I'm done with this business," Jasper began. "I want out. Whatever money I get from insurance, I'm using it to build a future for Alice and me. No more clubs for me."

"I was thinking the exact same thing," Edward replied. "It was fun, and I loved it, but it's not for me anymore. I don't need this."

Emmett grinned. "Not me."

"What?" Edward's brow furrowed. "You were the ass trying to get out of this business. You didn't want much to do with it at all until Rose came along."

Emmett nudged her. "Yeah, and she brought it back to life for me—showed me what it was supposed to be like for me. We love it. Rose and I just talked about it—we'll be opening up a new club with a broader mix of clients. We want more femdoms, people that are heavier into the lifestyle, sadists, masochists, you name it, we'll welcome them. We've already got several ideas to work from." Emmett grinned.

"Sounds good, man. I wish ya luck," Jasper said.

They all shook hands, Rose thanked them profusely for giving her a chance to even be involved in the club, told them how much they'd changed their life, and they all parted ways.

Edward drove behind Jasper and the second Bella was back in his arms, he whispered, "We're eloping this weekend. Tell me you're good with this."

She kissed him and melted into his hold. "Sounds perfect, only, can I at least pick my own dress, Sir?"

He chuckled. "Do any damn thing you want as you long as you wear my collar and say I do."

She smiled and his entire body lit up and became so warm and gushy, he thought he might need her to carry him back to the car.

.

.

.

The wedding two weeks later was a simple affair. Only Rose, Emmett, Jasper and Alice were in attendance, and Vegas nightlife was loud and interesting.

Though Edward didn't want to leave the room much, and Bella . . . Well, she didn't have much of a choice, now did she?

She was very often tied to the headboard, gagged and naked, dripping as she mewled in a pleading tone for her release.

Edward could barely keep his hands and teeth off her.

She was so marked, she practically had to dress in a nun's habit to exit the room.

Another good reason to stay in.

"Please, God, now!" Bella arched and whined.

"Tell me again first—who owns you?"

"You do, Sir!"

"And is this straight sex? Just about a dick in your tiny cunt?"

"No, n-no, Sir," she stammered, her head lulling from side to side.

"It's more. Tell me how much more," he said, his fingers probing her G spot while he yanked on the chain attached to both her nipples with his teeth.

"It's . . . Oh, gaaaaaawddammit! Please!"

"Uh uh. Tell me . . . You may not come until I hear the words." He couldn't get enough of hearing her say what this meant to her.

"It's you. It's me. It's a deep connection no one can break," she said as if by memory. "It's what I was searching for, what I craved."

"But you don't crave it anymore? Shame . . ." He tugged really hard on the chain and she squirmed then made a strangled moaning sound.

"I do. So much."

"How often?"

"All the fucking time, Sir. I want you endlessly."

"Why? Isabella, I need to know why," he coaxed.

She swallowed hard, her head tipped back so she was staring at the headboard. "Because I love you, and you do things to my body no one else ever could. You understand me, Siiiiir," she slurred at the end as he prodded that G spot even harder.

"And what did it do to me when you used to fight me and pretend you didn't really want to be a beautiful submissive woman?"

"You said it almost broke you inside," she answered.

"Why?"

"Because you love me, Sir."

"Because you are everything to me. You gave me a soul—never forget that. Now, do you think you deserve to come?"

"Mmhmm." The pitiful sound and the feeble head nod were all he needed.

"How many times?"

"As many as Sir will allow," she said, swallowing and gripping hard at the ropes around her wrists.

"Are you ready for me? Ready for my thick cock to nestle inside you and take over?"

She thrashed for a moment then spread her legs as wide as they would go. "Yes, God! Please!"

"Such a sweet little whore, begging for it. Opening her legs for her Master. I'm pleased you've made yourself available to me this way and are dripping already. Makes it so much nicer this way."

He released the clamps on her nipples simultaneously. She gave an expected appreciative moan of pleasure and he dipped his head down to taste her gushing sweetness, rather than suck at her tits.

They were already red from earlier when he'd bit them after he flogged and fucked her so hard, she fell asleep almost directly after.

Now she had her energy back, and it was time to push her a little further.

"You want my come? Say it," he growled.

"I do, Sir."

"You want it inside your pussy?"

"Yes," she said.

She was ready.

He pushed himself up and rammed himself inside her engorged tissues.

"Jesus Christ!" she burst out with a yelp.

"Let's talk kids," he said, her head almost hitting the headboard with how hard he was pounding her.

"Oh, God," she moaned, but it sounded pained.

"Is your pussy too sore?"

"No, Sir. I'm green."

"Then what? You don't want to talk about a family?" He ran his tongue across the seam of her lips and they parted as she released a sigh.

"N-no, Sir, we can talk about it, but I'm not ready to have them yet."

"Why? You love me, I'm gonna take care of you. I want you at home, not working, and I want you pregnant. What's the problem?" He rubbed his chest across her tender nipples and she moaned even louder, her eyes sliding up in her head.

"I c-caaan't think when you're in me like this, Sir."

"Yes, you can. You just answered with a damn essay about what I mean to you and why this isn't simply fucking for us. Now, tell me what's in your heart. You love me?"

"You know I do," she said, her eyes suddenly glaring at him like this was not a subject he should ever tease her about.

"You like kids?"

"I do, but . . ."

"Isabella . . ." He pulled out and she choked on a whimper and stared at his glistening cock in disbelief. "This better not be about your parents. I'll handle them."

"I want my mom to at least be on good terms with me so she can know her grandkids," she blurted.

He smiled and ran his hands across her inner thighs then pinched his way up to her clit.

She gasped when he pinched the bundle of nerves. He stared at the gorgeous pink organ.

He smacked it with the flat of his fingers.

"She will be."

"How?" Her back arched off the bed as he gave another smack.

"Wanna come first and then I'll tell you?"

"No, Sir. Tell me now, please," she said, barely above a pleading whisper.

He stared at her. Such a magnificent angel at his fingertips, and all he could think about since she said "I do," was how to get her pregnant and to quit working.

"She talked to me last week. I told her we were eloping, and she was happy for us," he began.

"Bastard—why didn't you tell me?"

"Bastard am I?" He slipped three fingers inside her and pumped in a slow, exaggerated motion, making sure to drag right over that G spot.

She tightened predictably.

"Bastard's don't give orgasms, do they? And do they want children with the women of their dreams?"

"No." She narrowed her eyes and kept them trained on his fingers.

"Well, what should we do with this naughty girl? She hurts me by not wanting my babies and doesn't trust me to take care of her, involve her parents with grandkids, and—"

"I'm already pregnant," she said, biting her lip directly after.

"What. Did. You. Say?"

She swallowed, blinked and went motionless.

"Answer me now," he said, voice soft but firm.

"Are you mad?" Her eyes misted.

"Mad?" He grinned. "You're arguing with me about kids when you've already got one inside you? Are you doing this on purpose to get punished?"

"Spanked," she corrected.

"You like those spankings too damn much," he teased.

"I do. You fuck me really hard afterward and then you get really cuddly," she said, beaming at him. "I'm sorry I didn't tell you. I just thought honeymoon first, and I found out right after the club had burned down. I was waiting for the right time." She tried to shrug, but her arms were stretched out too much for that. "Please tell me you really do want this, and you weren't just messing with me."

"Bella—mind kink is one thing, but this—this is important to me. I wasn't messing around." He dropped several kisses onto her lower belly then sat up and released her hands.

"Promise?"

"Have I ever lied to you?"

"No, but men don't usually ask for kids, Sir." She handed him her wrists since she knew he'd want to massage them, kiss them and attend to them.

He lavished affection on them, stroked them and the conversation slipped into where to go from here.

"I want you to quit working," he said.

"I do, too."

"You do?"

"Yeah, I . . . Well, I like the idea of being at home so I can be there for you whenever you need me," she admitted.

"That's my girl." He rolled her into a straddling position. "Ride me."

"Excuse me? Did my Master just tell me to take control?" She smirked.

He smacked her ass. "Now, little miss smart-mouth."

"With pleasure, Master." She exhaled with a lush, erotic sound and when he fondled her breasts she almost orgasmed.

"Are they sensitive because of the pregnancy?"

"Yeah, I think so," she said, eyes trained on his. "But I didn't want to say anything because even though it hurts some, it feels so goooood."

She rolled her hips deeper, pushed on his chest and he gripped her hips. Even though she was on top, he still controlled her speed, her angle and put her where he wanted her.

"We'll have to change some things so I don't hurt you," he said.

"Mmm . . ."

Her eyes were closed and she appeared totally zoned out.

"I'm talking to you, subbie."

"Shhh . . ."

"Shit, you did it. Now . . ." He rolled her off him; put her on hands and knees. This was it. Now or never. He reached over to nightstand, grabbed the lube and that anus was his.

She never yelled so loud, and he never loved anal sex this much until it happened with his wife.

He'd make sure they had more first like this—with a lifetime to come of fantasies to unravel, it would never get old or boring. And it would never be simply fucking again. It was more. She was more.

And because of her, it all mattered more than ever.

**A/N:**

**So, there you have it. Thank you so much to my pre-readers and beta, Shenaniwhatagans.**

**I appreciate all of you taking a chance on this story, reading, reviewing and rec'ing. I learned so much by writing this one, and I'll never forget the friendships I've made in the process.**

**I went back and fixed some issues in the first few chapters, and down the road I'll probably do another edit of this story and tighten it up even more; fix the remaining things that are off. For now, I'll just apologize for any inaccuracies I had at the beginning of the story. I was still in the early stages of learning about this amazing lifestyle, and continue to be in awe as I continue to expand my knowledge. It truly takes my breath away…**

**Chanse**


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